


Do You Believe In Miracles?

by krzed



Series: DYBIM-Verse [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Addiction, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bee Miraculous, Blood, Conceived before 99 percent of S2 spoilers, Crisis of Faith, Depression, Fox Miraculous, Homophobia, Identity Reveal, Minor Character Death, Multi, Non-Consensual Kissing, Not using the canon fox and peacock kwami names, Peacock Miraculous, Redemption, Romance, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Turtle Miraculous, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-22 03:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8270395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krzed/pseuds/krzed
Summary: Four children chosen by fate to aid Creation and Destruction. Four children forced to confront their fears and insecurities. One must deny who she was. One must accept who she is. One must prove her worth to others. One must prove his worth to himself. All must come together to face one man's obsession, one man's mistakes, and one man's madness. It will take a miracle to transform a group of ordinary teenagers into the heroes they are destined to become. So I ask you...Do you believe?





	1. Coronation

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: If I include any potentially triggery topics in this work and I missed them in the tags, please let me know and I will adjust the tags accordingly.

Master Fu stood somber above the open Miraculous Chest, his hand and mind wavering. Just last week, Ladybug had delivered to him an ancient tome filled with the secrets of the Miraculous, lost since the time of the Spanish Inquisition. Its emergence both delighted and troubled him. With it, he could guide Ladybug and Chat Noir on their journey to become heroes and put an end to Hawkmoth's selfish pursuits. However, the girl who had the book before her, the Akuma Ladybug had described...Volpina. Fu's fingers brushed against the fox tail pendant. How did Hawkmoth know there was a fox hero? How did he know what the Fox Miraculous would look like in its active state? Granted, Nooroo could have told him, but he only ever expressed interest in the the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous. Why would he ask about the others?

Too many questions, though they all had the same answer: the Miraculous book had been in Hawkmoth's possession. Where did he get the book? Had he managed to translate its pages? What had he learned of his enemies? What had he learned of himself? Master Fu could not wait for Hawkmoth to make the first move. After taking the last week to meditate on his options, he decided he must prepare. Paris needed a new hero.

“Who will you send, Master?” Wayzz asked from his perch on the old Guardian's shoulder.

“I cannot send Keela,” Fu sighed. His hand left the fox pendant. “The wounds Volpina inflicted are far too fresh. I would send you, but I need time to choose a worthy successor. That leaves...”

“Vii,” Wayzz hummed.

Fu nodded. “Bees are powerful and loyal allies, but they take time to develop into such. Vii's chosen will be vain, selfish, arrogant at first. But they will prove a great hero once they come into their own.”

“Do you have someone in mind, Master?”

Fu nodded again. “I do. Now, Wayzz, I know you are one to question my decisions, and I thank you for that.” Fu shot the kwami a smile. “Keeps me on my toes, gives me perspective.” The smile faded and his hand landed on the golden comb. “However, this may be the one time you outright disagree with me.”

“Whoever you choose, Master, I'm sure they will become a magnificent bee.”

(#)

Master Fu stood in the shadows of a building just outside Le Grand Paris, surveying the scene before him. The orange glow of the Paris night filled the streets and contrasted with the silvery gown of the woman floating just above them. Her blue hair sat in a jumbled nest atop her head, her blue mask speckled with silver glitter. She was barefoot and in her hands she clutched a navy blue pillow. Several Parisians lay on the sidewalks or sat in their cars, dozing, snoozing, and snoring. Chat Noir stood guard in front of the hotel, his eyes drooping and unfocused. His jaw tightened against a yawn, and he glanced back over his shoulder. Ladybug lay on the ground just outside the hotel, sound asleep, Chloé Bourgeois on her knees above her, shaking her and yelling in her face.

“Wake up, Ladybug! Wake up!”

“Tell that annoying brat to shut her yap!” the Akuma shouted to Chat Noir. “I need my beauty rest!”

“If yooaaaaaaaaaaawwwww...” Chat yawned, then slapped himself and blinked the sleep from his eyes. “If you think I'm letting you get past me, then you're _dreaming_ , Slumber!”

Slumber pulled back her pillow and swung it at the cat, a cloud of silver dust flying from it. Chat rolled to the side and jumped with his staff held high. Slumber blocked with her pillow, folded it around the staff, and yanked it from his hands. In Chat's fatigued state, he couldn't react before the back of her hand sent him flying into a car. Another swing of the pillow and he caught a cloud of dust to the face. He blinked, his eyes bleary, then stretched, curled into a ball, and began to purr.

“Should we not intervene, Master?” Wayzz asked from his master's shoulder.

“Do not pick the fruit before it has ripened, Wayzz.” His way of saying 'Be patient.'

Slumber advanced on the hotel. Chloé turned her terrified eyes to to the Akuma, then back down to her hero. Frantic, she reached into her purse and produced a bottle of water which she shook at the Akuma, yelling, “I hope you're happy! This is nine euros a bottle!” She unscrewed the cap, turned it over, and dumped the contents all over Ladybug's face.

The spotted heroine coughed and sputtered. She swatted at Chloé, sat up, and drew a hand across her face. “Wha-what happened?”

“You were asleep! I totally helped!” Chloé beamed.

“Why am I wet?”

“You insufferable...” Slumber ground her teeth together. “Time for you to hibernate again, little bug!” She pulled back her pillow once more.

Ladybug shoved Chloé through the hotel doors and threw her yoyo skyward. “Lucky Charm!” From the cloud of red lights fell an aluminum can. Ladybug caught it and remarked, “Soda? But I'm not even thirsty.” She turned it over and read the label. _Miracle Worker_ _™_ _Energy Drink_. Ladybug smirked, popped the tab, and guzzled the cans contents. “Mmm. Strawberry!” She tossed the can into a garbage can and turned back to face Slumber. The Akuma cast another cloud of dust at Ladybug, who didn't even dodge. She weathered the assault and still stood, as awake and alert as ever.

“What?” Slumber cried. She swung again and again, each cloud of dust breaking across Ladybug's form and leaving no discernible effects. The heroine strode forward, Slumber's only method of attack neutralized. The Akuma lowered to the ground, conceding defeat. Ladybug plucked the purple sleep mask from her forehead, tore it in half, and purified the butterfly that fluttered out.

“I still don't see anyone here who would be a suitable candidate for the Bee Miraculous,” Wayzz whispered. Master Fu only smiled.

Ladybug's magic flooded the city, waking Slumber's victims, save for the girl who had become Slumber, who dozed in the streets. Ladybug asked Chat Noir to take her home and make sure she got some well-deserved sleep. Then, the heroine turned her attention to the girl poking her head out of the hotel doors.

“Chloé,” Ladybug sighed as she strode towards the hotel. “I don't think eleven o'clock on a school night is the best time to blast the new Jagged Stone album out of your room.”

“But, but,” Chloé stammered. “I knew it was your patrol night, and I wanted you to hear it, so...”

Ladybug gave a fake smile, but still spoke through gritted teeth. “And while I appreciate it, you need to consider everyone else in the city _trying to sleep_.” She pulled her yoyo from her hip and prepared to throw it into the rooftops.

Chloé crossed her arms and pouted. “Then, couldn't we at least hang out sometime and listen to it together?”

She didn't notice Ladybug's look of disgust, though Master Fu did. “I have a responsibility to this city, Chloé,” she grunted, just barely concealing her displeasure. “I can't take time to just 'hang out' with people.” Before Chloé could get another word in, Ladybug disappeared into the night.

“I don't understand, Master. Who?”

“Staying by her hero's side even with an Akuma targeting her, making a sacrifice to help, wanting something as simple as to be friends with Ladybug.”

Wayzz's eyes narrowed. “I'd hardly call a bottle of water a 'sacrifice'.”

“To someone like her, wasting overpriced spring water _is_ a great sacrifice.”

“I know what I said earlier, Master, but I must say that I do disagree with you. She makes people vulnerable to Hawkmoth's influence almost daily.”

“And when she realizes just how much work she's making for herself, she'll put a stop to it.” Master Fu fiddled with the black box in his pocket and watched the heiress wander back into the hotel.

“Chloé Bourgeois is our bee.”

(#)

Chloé tapped her foot against the cafe's tile floor and glared daggers at the man ahead of her in line. After the night she had, she _needed_ her half-caf nonfat latte (no whip, half shot of hazelnut) to get her day started, and this geriatric nuisance in a gaudy, red Hawaiian shirt almost as wrinkly as he was had _dared_ to pay for his coffee in pocket change. Chloé shot a quick glance to her phone. 7:50. It was a good thing this cafe knew her order and already had it waiting, because even if her driver decided to take a few risks on the road the only way she would make it to school on time would be if she ran into class. But no. Chloé Bourgeois does _not_ run.

“Oh, I'm so sorry,” the man said. “It seems I'm a little short.”

The heiress rolled her eyes, shoved the man aside and slapped several euros on the counter. “Here, is this enough to get his coffee _and_ mine?” she spat. The shocked barista, a girl with blonde-in-a-bottle hair and a nasal piercing, looked from the euros, to the frustrated girl, to the man in the Hawaiian shirt.

A smile blossomed across the man's face. “Thank you, young lady. Such a kind act will not go unrewarded.”

The frustration faded from Chloé's eyes when she turned to look at the man, to be replaced with...what? Shock, perhaps? She wasn't a kind person. She had a reputation as the hard-as-nails daughter of the mayor to uphold and couldn't let anyone think she was a pushover. So, why did she pay for his coffee? Her eyes cut back to her phone and the anger returned. Oh, that's why. “Th-this isn't charity, Grandpa!” Chloé stammered as she swiped the small pile of change into her open purse. “I just want you out of the way faster because _some_ people in line have places to be!” She whipped her head to the barista, snatched her coffee from the girl's hand, and snapped her purse closed on the way to the door, oblivious to the hexagonal black box now nestled in among the lipstick and mascara tubes.

Master Fu apologized to the barista after accepting his own coffee, black, and walked out into the morning air. He watched a heated exchange between the Bourgeois girl and her driver, something about 'ignoring traffic lights', and the girl sped away to school. Fu sipped at his coffee and whispered to the kwami just under his collar.

“You see, Wayzz? Beneath that pride and stubbornness lies a good heart, and I think she can sense it. Something in her prevents her from acknowledging it, but when she overcomes it, she will become a great hero.”

(#)

Chloé strode into class with seconds to spare, sad that her Adrikins was attending another photoshoot and wouldn't be joining them until just before lunch. The last of her coffee had just disappeared down her throat as she approached her desk when she saw a golden opportunity before her, or rather behind her. She smirked and tossed the empty foam cup over her shoulder, right into Marinette's head. The cup bounced off of the girl's hair and landed top down on the designer's open sketch book, a small dribble of brown liquid spreading across the page.

“W-what the...” Marinette stuttered. She whipped her tired eyes about in search of the perpetrator, and when she spotted the smirking bully, she angled her eyebrows in rage. “ _Chloé_!”

“Oh, I am _soo_ sorry, Marinette.” Chloé voice dripped with sass and sarcasm. “I thought I was throwing that towards the trash can. I'm sure you can understand the confusion.”

Marinette grasped the cup, the sides buckling beneath her grip. “I'll throw _you_ towards the trash can!” She jumped from her seat, hands outstretched, but Marinette's copper haired companion, Alya, grabbed the girl about the waist and pulled back.

“Not worth it, girl! Totally not worth it!”

Chloé snickered. “Though with all the growling and snarling, I suppose you're more of a garbage disposal.” Alya's grip started to fail after that remark.

“Chloé, Marinette. Please take your seats,” Ms. Bustier called out to the pair.

Marinette stopped struggling against Alya and shot her eyes from Chloé to their teacher and back. She growled and dropped back into her seat before taking a handkerchief from her purse and blotting the stained paper. Chloé took her own seat, not too worried that the teacher had scolded her. She took pride in knocking the baker's daughter down a peg. Class began, but the young heiress tuned out Ms. Bustier to focus on the whispered conversation to her left.

“I swear, is she _trying_ to get you akumatized?” Alya sighed.

“I know I shouldn't get so upset, Alya,” Marinette hissed, “but I didn't get any sleep last night and I don't have the energy to deal with her.”

“Why couldn't you sleep?”

“I was, uh, really inspired to work on this design, so I decided to have an energy drink. I guess I can't handle caffeine too well, because I stayed up all night working on this and now, thanks to _Chloé_ , it's ruuu...” Chloé tilted her head to hear just how ruined it was. “Actually, this shade of brown works really well for this coat.”

Chloé straightened in her seat. “So, she accidentally helped you?” Alya chuckled.

“In a weird way, yeah. I mean the next couple of pages are too stained to use, but they were blank anyways, so...”

Chloé ground her teeth together and hunched in her seat. Why? Why couldn't she ever get a leg up on that insufferable goody-two-shoes? Chloé went out of her way to make the girl's life miserable daily, and yet she always came out on top. Why is she always so lucky? _How_ is she always so lucky? Why does she have everything without even trying? Why...

“Chloé?” She perked up at her name. Ms. Bustier gave her a knowing glance and asked, “Would you care to tell us what event Tchaikovsky wrote the _1812 Overture_ to commemorate?”

“Uh...” She glanced sideways to Sabrina.

“Eyes up here, Miss Bourgeois.”

Chloé's eyes returned to the teacher. “Um, the War of...1812?”

Ms. Bustier shrugged, sighed, and turned her attention to the rest of the class. “Would someone who was actually paying attention like to tell us?”

Chloé rolled her eyes and turned her attention down to her phone to browse through recent Ladyblog posts, her issues with Marinette all but forgotten. She would never say it out loud, be she actually loved the digital shrine Alya had erected to Paris' heroes. These very pictures were used as references for Chloé's custom Ladybug suit. In the middle of another interview article, Chloé found her phone plucked from her grasp. She looked up into Ms. Bustier's perturbed expression and her own face shifted from apathy to anger.

“First, not paying attention, and now playing around on your phone?” the teacher huffed. “Since you insist on wasting my time, I have no choice but to waste yours. I want a two thousand word essay on The French Invasion of Russia on my desk Friday morning.”

Chloé slammed her fists on the desk. “That is _so_ not fair! I don't have time for any stupid essay! When Daddy hears about this...”

“Oh, he already has, Chloé, and he agrees that you need to be more serious about your studies.” She walked over to her desk and deposited Chloé's phone in one of the drawers. “You can call him and tell him all about this once I've returned your phone a _fter_ class. So, twenty-five hundred words, Invasion of Russia, Friday. And I _will_ be checking for Sabrina's handwriting.”

“But you said two thousand!”

“And then you talked back to me.” Chloé opened her mouth again. “Would you like to make it three thousand?”

Chloé clammed up after that and Ms. Bustier finally got back to teaching. She flipped open her history book to make it at least appear as though she were studying. Eventually, once the class settled into a comfortable rhythm, Sabrina slid a folded piece of paper across the desk. Chloé barely spared it a glance. She felt the ginger nudge her with her foot under the desk and finally flipped open the note.

_I'll still help._

Chloé rolled her eyes and scribbled out her response. _You better help me. And stop kicking me. These pants cost more than your dad makes in a month._

Sabrina read the note and nodded. The smirk returned to Chloé's face. Sabrina knew her place, she wouldn't be alone working on this stupid essay, and soon, she would have lunch with her precious Adrikins. All was right with the world.

(#)

All was wrong with the world. Chloé jabbed the top floor button on the elevator hard enough to almost break a nail, but even that would have paled in comparison to the stream of injustices she had suffered today. Adrien hadn't returned to class until well after lunch; the Agreste label was working on a collaboration with some Italian designer Chloé had never heard of, and the extended shoot schedule left Chloé without a lunch partner. Then, when finally Adrien came into class, clumsy Marinette tripped and practically threw her sketchbook at his head. It popped open to what Chloé assumed was the coat design she had 'helped' with, and Adrien had _complimented it!_ Though he was an Agreste, he simply didn't understand good design if he was praising coffee stains. After school, a quick call to her father confirmed his conversation with Ms. Bustier: Chloé's neglect of her schoolwork was no longer acceptable. If she aspired to become mayor of Paris herself someday, poor grades would not reflect well with the constituency. Blah blah blah. But it wasn't until Chloé stepped into the hotel elevator that she got the biggest disappointment of her day in the form of a text from Sabrina.

**Sorry can't come over to help w/essay. Grandparents visiting this week. Will email you references and articles later. Love, Sabrina.**

When the elevator reached the top floor, she strode down the hallway to her room, fist clenched around her phone. “First that old man, then Sabrina's grandparents?” she growled. “What is it with old people ruining my day today?” When she entered her bedroom, she threw her purse and books onto her bed and flopped face-first into the down comforter. She released a groan into the bed and turned over onto her back. She would have lain there all afternoon if two thoughts hadn't forced her to move. One: That ridiculous essay wouldn't do itself...unless Chloé could convince her bestie, Ladybug, to help her. According to the Ladyblog, there was a Ladybug in Ancient Egypt, so the superheroine must have been alive in 1812. And two: lying in this position was going to ruin her hair.

Chloé started to kick off her shoes when she noticed her purse had popped open and there were stray coins all over her bed. A frustrated groan crawled up her throat and she dumped the entire contents across her bed, intent on cleaning out the change. She paused when she spotted a hexagonal black box mixed in with her various make-up supplies. The contents of her purse were sacred and only the finest designer cosmetics were allowed to grace the ermine interior; she had a categorized list of the various labels burned into her memory. _'If only you could do that with 19_ _th_ _century history'_ part of her mind mewled.

She shook her head and wrapped her fingers gingerly around the box. It was made of rough wood, painted black and embossed with intricate red designs, definitely Asian in origin. Asian... That guy at the cafe _looked_ Asian...

“Must have been mixed in with that old man's money.” She turned the box over in her hands and smiled. “Oh, well. Finders keepers!”

Chloé's fingers found the edge of the lid and threw it back. She caught the faintest glimpse of a hair comb before a ball of yellow light darted out of the box and hovered just over her head. She shielded her eyes with her hand, and when the light faded, she peeked between her fingers and saw a blob of yellow with black stripes.

“Bee!” Chloé screamed and scrambled to get away. She tumbled backwards off of her bed, purse still in her hands, and landed hard on her back. She quickly righted herself and shot a hand into her bag. “Epi, where's my epi?” She groped around for a few seconds, but only found soft fur. She figured it must still be on her bed. She raised her head over the edge of the blankets and caught a better glimpse of the bug floating above her bed.

Now that she got a better look at it, Chloé wasn't sure why she thought it was a bee. It was, indeed, mostly yellow, with black stripes circling its bulbous head, a pair of black antennae, and yellow fur or fuzz around its neck, but the fact that it had a neck at all told her something was off. It was almost humanoid, albeit significantly smaller. It's arms and legs were solid black, it had what resembled a stinger coming from its backside, but the most intriguing attribute of the creature was its eyes: pools of deep sapphire blue. It had no pupils, but Chloé knew the bee thing was looking right at her.

“You are just hilarious, you know that?” it squeaked in a smooth, sweet voice.

“AHHH!” Chloé shrieked. “Talking bee!” She spotted the epinephrine injector on her bed and dove beneath the creature for it, ending up on the other side of the bed. She stood back up, brandishing the injector in both hands like a knife. “Stay back!”

The bee creature whirled around to face the frightened girl and planted its hand (stub?) on its hip. “Honey, what do you expect to do with _that_?”

Chloé glanced down at the injector, then back to the bee. “I-it's in case you sting me. I'm a-allergic to bee stings.”

The floating bug's tiny mouth curled into a wicked grin. It cackled wildly then zoomed to within centimeters of Chloé's face. The heiress cried out again and fell backwards into her bathroom. “Oh, the irony!” It reclined in the air and shut its eyes, still smiling. “You don't need to worry about anything, honey. My words hurt worse than my stinger.”

“Wha-what are you?” Chloé squirmed on the tile floor. “Why are you in my room?”

“I'm a kwami, an ancient spirit with command over powerful magic.” The creature clasped its hands (paws?) together and its expression became one of yearning. “I'm here because some villain has imprisoned my sweet Nooroo."

“What's a 'Nooroo'?”

The kwami's face flattened and it grumbled. “One: the moth kwami. Two: _don't_ interrupt me.” It flew down closer to Chloé's face. “Because my Nooroo needs rescuing...and I guess the bug and cat need help, too...The Guardian has convinced me to once again lend my power to a mortal. _You_ , honey, have been chosen to receive my blessings.”

“Power?” Chloé asked shakily. “Chosen?”

The kwami zipped back down to the bed, lifted the comb from its box, then fluttered over and deposited the accessory in Chloé's lap. “This is the Bee Comb. One of the Miraculous.”

At the word 'Miraculous', Chloé's attention shifted from anaphylactic shock to the prospect of having powers just like her idol. She dropped the injector, then lifted the comb in both hands. It was a silver hair comb with a round citrine set in the center and a hair clip set just behind the stone, but despite its simple design, Chloé could feel an energy radiating from it. “A Miraculous? Like...what Ladybug and Chat Noir have?”

“Yes, though your powers will be decidedly more interesting than those granted by the mothering killjoy and the shameless cheese muncher.”

Chloé paid no attention to who the 'killjoy' or 'cheese muncher' might be. She stood, faced her vanity, and affixed the comb into her ponytail. “It's like this thing was made for me.” She flipped a hand beneath her hair and smiled. “Now, tell me how to get my powers.”

“ _Don't_ boss me around, honey,” the kwami intoned indignantly. “You're not getting anything until I explain how it all works.”

“Then just give me the abridged version.” She continued to turn her head about in the mirror, admiring the comb from every angle.

The spirit glowered in response to the rude comments, then huffed and spoke in a grandiose voice, “In the beginning, there was nothing. Then, the primal forces of the universe began to coalesce...”

“Hey!” Chloé spun on her heels and planted her fists on her hips. “I said 'the abridged version'!”

The angry kwami flew into Chloé's face, eye to eye, its forehead pressed against her own. “And _I_ said you will _not_ boss me around! Without me, you get _nothing_!” It squinted at her. “I can sense you have a good bit of attitude in you, but I just want you to know, _honey_ : I've existed since the dawn of time. You will _never_ be able to out-sass me.”

Chloé withered beneath the ancient spirit's gaze. How could something so small be so intimidating? She pouted, averted her gaze, and crossed her arms before sputtering, “Okay, I'm s-sorry. Just stop it with the 'honey' thing. My name's Chloé.”

The bee pulled away and crossed its own tiny arms. “You're 'honey' until I deem you worthy to be part of my hive.” It turned its head away. “And you may call me Vii.”

Chloé sighed. There really was no other way to do this. Either swallow her pride, or kiss her superpowers goodbye. “Alright, Vii,” she grumbled, “what do I need to know about my powers?”

Vii grinned. “That's better. Now, have a seat, honey, and I'll explain.”

(#)

A half hour later, Chloé stood before her closet mirror with a wide grin on her face, her skin itching with anticipation. Vii had explained everything as best she could, from her stun rapier to her special Swarm power. However, some things are better experienced than explained, so Vii was allowing Chloé to transform and figure out how to fly.

“Remember,” Vii cautioned as she floated about Chloé's head, “flying is about instinct. You have to trust your wings to do what you want. Just know that once you transform, I can't bail you out. You crash and burn, you're on your own.”

“Okay, okay!” Chloé hummed. “Just tell me how to transform already!” She flinched when Vii growled, then added, “Please?” 

Vii sighed. “I'm probably going to regret this, but just say 'Stripes On' to transform and 'Stripes Off' to change back.”

Chloé vibrated with excitement. “Vii, Stripes On!”

The bee kwami became a blur of energy that zipped into the comb. Golden light engulfed Chloé's entire body and she closed her eyes against it. The gentle breath of a breeze whispered in her ears and caressed her skin, warmed it. The loose softness of her normal clothes was rapidly replaced with a comfortable tightness, not restrictive, but similar to a comforting hug. When Chloé felt the wind around her cease, she chanced to open her eyes and gasped at what met her gaze.

She didn't recognize the figure in the mirror as herself. The skintight suit she wore was mostly yellow accented in black, with a honeycomb pattern across the yellow in a light honey color. The high collar was black and three black bands circled her torso: the first and widest around her bust, the second narrower and just below that, and the third at her navel. A black belt hung around her hips and on the right side of the belt sat what looked like the handle and hilt of a rapier. Her arms were coated from the elbow down in black, each finger dipped in yellow. Her legs were likewise clad in black just over her knees with twin bands of black around her upper thighs and modest heels at her feet. The corners of Chloé's mouth tilted up as she took in more and more of her costume, but when she lifted her eyes to her face, her mouth dropped open.

The comb now glittered gold. Five black stripes adorned the citrine and gossamer wings that protruded from the sides of it. A pair of black ribbons that resembled Vii's antennae sprouted from the comb and curled over the top of her head stopping just over her brow. A domino mask rested on her face, mostly black with swathes of yellow under her eyes and a triangle of yellow between them, but it was her eyes, just like Vii's, that drew the bulk of her attention. The azure of Chloé's own eyes flooded her sclera. Her irises were circled with pure white and her pupils were likewise white, leaving an almost otherworldly quality to her gaze.

Chloé stretched a hand out to the mirror, mildly shocked when her reflection copied the action. She giggled and directed her attention to the weapon hanging from her belt. She withdrew the handle and with a flick of her wrist, extended the blade to its full length. The guard looked like a pair of black and gold bee wings folded over one another, and the pommel was set with a citrine same as the comb. The blade wasn't really a blade, but more a thin shaft of polished silver with a blunt tip. Vii did mention how the Miraculous heroes' weapons were always nonlethal, or at the very least not blatantly lethal. She whirled it in the air before striking several poses and twirling around before her reflection. Something about the suit made every action, every motion feel effortless, as though the suit were moving her body for her. It was so different from her Ladybug costume. The red spandex suit still felt like a suit; this felt like an extension of her skin.

She stopped, half-turned to the mirror, and gawked at the translucent insectoid wings folded flush against her upper back. She returned her sword to her belt and flexed the muscles in her shoulders, eliciting a squeak of surprise when the wings popped outwards, granting her slightly less than a two meter wingspan. Just as Vii said, Chloé focused on what she wanted the wings to do, and when they hummed and buzzed to life, she felt her boots lift off of the floor.

Her heart hammered in her ears. She was flying. She was actually flying. She expected to feel the bulk of her weight suspended from her shoulders, but somehow, her body felt lighter, as though the act of flapping rendered her weightless. She let out a giddy giggle and swayed to the side, her concentration broken. She attempted to right herself but overcompensated and slammed into the wall beside her doors, rattling the painting hanging near her. She pushed off and shook her head, but the motion translated into her wings and they jerked her back and forth before pulling her backwards towards her balcony, her heels dragging the floor.

' _Stop_!' she screamed in her mind. The wings froze and she fell hard on her backside, skidding to a stop. The wings pulled in against her back and she flopped backwards to stare at the ceiling. ' _This is harder than I thought._ ' She closed her eyes and drew a breath in through her nose. She slowly let it slip between her lips, then repeated. In through the nose, out through the mouth. ' _I can do this. I. Can. Do. This._ '

She stood, spread her wings once more, and willed them to raise her off the floor. This time, instead of focusing on flying itself, she simply chose a destination in her room and trusted her wings to take her there. ' _My bed._ ' Her body turned and she hummed across her room, from the balcony doors to her bed. She picked another point in her room and turned to the massive television at the other side of her corner suite, this time willing a little more speed into her wings. A giddy smile spread across her face. She hovered, flew backwards, and spun about in the air as fast as she could, astonished at the lack of nausea. It all felt so natural, effortless, just the way Chloé liked it.

She landed and cast her eyes to the doors leading her balcony. Did she dare leave? Should she go flying around Paris? She banished the thought from her mind. No, she could wait for the cover of night, then leave to meet Ladybug on her nightly patrol. But she needed to be cautious. She couldn't let anyone see her. Not for fear of being viewed as another Volpina, but because her debut needed to be big. And with a debut she needed a name. Wasp sounded too harsh and inelegant. Yellow Jacket...not too bad, but would be better if she wore an actual jacket. Hornet? No, it just...didn't resonate. Chloé lifted a hand to the comb in her hair. Vii called it the Bee Comb. So...Bumblebee? No, 'bumble' made her sound clumsy. Honey Bee? Sweet and deadly. She liked it, but it still didn't seem to fit her. She _was_ Paris royalty after all...wait. Royalty.

"Queen Bee," she tested. She nodded and smiled. "Hello, Paris. I am Queen Bee."


	2. Queen Regnant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ladybug and Chat get acquainted with their new teammate.

Chloé tapped her stylus against her tablet. She glanced at the e-mail app icon and saw no new messages. What was taking Sabrina so long with those articles? Her eyes then darted to the time in the upper corner. 8:37. Just under an hour before she could step out and meet Ladybug. She blew a puff of air between her lips and lowered her gaze back to the screen, currently displaying Wikipedia. _'Napoleon hoped to compel Tsar Alexander I of Russia to cease trading with...'_

_*crunch*_

Chloé clenched her teeth together and continued reading. _'...cease trading with British merchants through...'_

_*crunch*_

_'...through proxies in an effort to...'_

_*crunch*_

_'inanefforttopressuretheUnitedKingdomto...'_

_*crunch*_

Chloé growled and threw her stylus at the nearby table. It clanged against a metal bowl next to Vii and scattered small pretzels over the table and floor. “Can you eat any louder? I'm trying to concentrate!”

Vii squinted at Chloé, a pretzel nearly the size of her head in her paws. She opened her mouth, placed the pretzel inside, and eased her jaws shut. _*cruuuuuuuuunch*_

Chloé leapt from her seat and dove for the table, hands outstretched. Vii phased down through the table which left Chloé to slam into it hard enough to push it across the floor a few centimeters. She ducked to look under the table, but Vii had already zipped up into the air, several more pretzels in her arms. Chloé knocked the bowl to the ground and glared up at the kwami, who floated, a smug look on her face, and stuffed more pretzels in her mouth. Crumbs fell on Chloé's face and she groaned as she swiped them away.

“I know you have to eat something, but does it _have_ to be pretzels?”

Vii smiled and took another bite. “Nah really,” she spoke around the doughy mass. “It jush hash to be shalty.” She swallowed. “The saltier, the better.”

“Well,” Chloé grumbled, brushing more crumbs from her jacket, “you are what you eat.”

Vii buzzed closer. “What was that, _honey?_ ”

She glowered at the floating sprite. “I'm saying your attitude is infuriating!” Vii didn't flinch. Chloé crossed her arms and huffed. “I want a new kwami!” she demanded. “A _nice_ kwami!”

“Well, _I_ want a _nice_ charge.” Chloé growled again and threw up her arms. She snatched her stylus from the table, entertained the thought of cleaning up the pretzels for half a second, dismissed it (that's what housekeeping was for), and settled back into her chair. “But you're stuck with me, and I'm stuck with you.”

“Have you always been this grumpy?”

“Have you?” Vii countered.

Chloé paused. Yes, there was a time she wasn't so bitter, wasn't so crass and spiteful. A time when Aunt Felice would bring Adrien over to play and they'd have grand adventures in the service hallways of the hotel, particularly around the kitchen. He would wrap his arms and legs in aluminum foil, pop a pot on his head, and grab a massive ladle to brandish as a sword. She would put on her prettiest dress, let her hair down, and borrow some of her mother's jewelry. They would invent different scenarios, sometimes searching for treasure, other times slaying monsters, but in the end, he was always her knight and she his princess.

“Pleasant memories, honey?” 

Vii's voice snapped Chloé back to reality. The smile that was slowly building on her face fell and she pushed the thoughts back down. She didn't have time to reminisce. She didn't have time for sentiment. “None of your business.” She waved her hand and turned back to her tablet. “Now quit _bugging_ me.”

“Oh, you did _not!_ ” Vii seethed. Chloé ignored the shrill voice and continued studying, but found herself unable to focus. Memories, once stirred up, are not quick to settle. She remembered her mother. She remembered Adrien. She remembered a time when both were there for her.

She remembered Aunt Bri inviting Aunt Felice and her mother out for drinks and 'to find some trouble' whatever that meant. Daddy wasn't happy about it, but he knew Mommy would do as she pleased. She remembered staying up late, waiting for a bedtime story that never came. She remembered the head of housekeeping telling her to get dressed the following morning. She remembered a cold and lonely limo ride with no one answering her questions. She remembered sterile white walls and the smell of alcohol. She remembered tubes and wires and incessant beeping. She remembered Aunt Bri in tears. She remembered...

“Hellllloooooooo...”

Chloé glanced up to find Vii buzzing in her face. She yelped and swatted at her with the tablet. Vii didn't even move; she simply phased through the tablet as it swished through the air.

“Warn me before you get that close!”

Vii planted a stub on her little hip. “Honey, it's not _my_ fault you were totally zoned out.”

Chloé groaned again and pinched her brow. “Is it time to meet Ladybug yet?”

“Do I _look_ like a clock to you?”

A quick swipe across the tablet revealed the time. 8:56. ' _How the hell did I spend twenty minutes daydreaming?_ ' Chloé pondered. She stood and threw the device onto her chair. “Close enough.” She slung her purse over her shoulder, now free of loose change and organized, just as it should be. “Come on, Vii.”

Vii popped another pretzel in her mouth and asked, “An jush wha a we goin?”

“Out to meet Ladybug for patrol.” She turned and snapped open her purse. “Come on, in you go.”

The kwami's face drooped. She swallowed and growled, “Okay, one, adjust the attitude or I'm not going anywhere with you. Two, you know you can fly, right?” She fluttered over to the balcony doors and gestured outside. “Why not just take a running leap and go?”

Chloé blanched at the idea. “Uh, even if I _can_ fly, there is no way in _hell_ I'm jumping off of a building!”

Vii groaned and mumbled to herself. “I...guess you're still too inexperienced...” She shrugged and floated closer to the door. “Alright! We'll take the _boring_ way!” Chloé smiled and held open her purse only for Vii to zip under her ponytail and nestle into her hair.

“Hey!” Chloé reached behind her head and groped around for the kwami. “Get out of there!”

“I'm not stuffing myself in that smelly old purse!” Vii ignored Chloe's cries of protest. “Besides, I'm right next to your Miraculous so you can transform faster!” A few seconds of silence preceded a stamped foot and an utterance of acceptance.

(#)

The doorman became suspicious the moment Miss Bourgeois stepped out of the elevator. She never left her room this late in the evening, and ventured nowhere without escort. However, she declared she was consumed with a craving for frozen yogurt and adamantly insisted on traveling alone. The walk would 'burn off the calories of such an indulgence' as she put it. The doorman, who reasoned he wasn't paid near enough to deal with her this late, conceded, and made the subtle suggestion that she call if she would like her limo to pick her up.

The moment Chloé rounded the corner, she power walked (again, Chloé Bourgeois does _not_ run) in the opposite direction of the nearest froyo shop, made a mental note to grab a pint of c onfiture de lait on her way home...and perhaps some salted caramel for Vii ( _enjoy your brain freeze, you annoying insect!_ ), and found an empty alleyway.

She ducked inside and whispered, “Vii, Stripes...”

“Just saying,” Vii interrupted, “jumping from your balcony would have been quicker, and you wouldn't have to sneak past that stuffy guy if and when you come home late.”

“Yeah, except you told me my wings work on instinct, and my only instinct while plummeting towards hot asphalt would be to _panic_!”

“Well that sounds like a personal problem, honey.” Chloé rolled her eyes. “You need to learn how to...”

“ _Stripes On!_ ” Golden light glowed from beneath Chloé's hair, stopping Vii mid-sentence. The same light soon crackled over her body leaving behind her bee-suit. Queen Bee let out a sigh that morphed her mouth into a bright smile. This felt good. It felt _right_.

^Well, _that_ was rude.^ The voice echoed just behind Queen Bee's ear.

She shrieked and turned about in the alley. “Vii? What was...where...I thought...I thought you were inside my...”

^Inside the Miraculous? Not really. Think of the comb as more of a bridge that...^ Bee could feel an insidious chuckle in her mind. ^...let's me get _inside_ you!^

She shivered and hugged her arms around herself. “Creepy much?”

^I kid! You are _too_ easy, honey. But seriously, I'm part of you now, imbuing you with my power. Our interactions are mostly limited to coaching you from the back of your mind, but I can also take control of the suit in emergencies. Speaking of which...^ Bee felt her right hand lift of its own accord. It flicked her hard on the nose and she recoiled, more out surprise than pain. ^ _That_ was for interrupting me.^

Queen Bee shook her hand, now back under her control, and clenched it into a fist. “Well ex- _cuuuse me_ for finding the idea of leaping to my doo...”

* _cl-click_ *

The sound interrupted all thought and Queen Bee spun around in search of the source. A short girl with pixie-cut red hair stood at the entrance to the alley with her widened, bespectacled eyes locked on the hero. She looked familiar, but Bee couldn't place her. The girl held her phone out in front of her and...wait...that sound...a _camera shutter?_

* _cl-click_ *

“H-hey!” Bee called out. The girl flinched and sprinted down the sidewalk. Bee took a step towards the mouth of the alley, but pulled herself back to the shadows. She stomped her foot and grumbled, “Well _that's_ just great! My first exposure as a superhero and it's in some dank, disgusting alley talking to myself like a schizoid whacko.”

^Like you are now?^

“Just...” Bee pinched the bridge of her nose and groaned. “Let's just find Ladybug, okay?”

Her eyes drifted upwards to the edge of the roof above. She flexed her shoulders, extended her wings and buzzed, slowly, up to the roof. Bee had initially planned to take it slow, to save her energy in case of an Akuma attack, to keep a low profile so she could have the perfect debut (that red-headed rat ruined that notion), or if she wanted to impress Ladybug, but with the open skies of Paris laid out before her, the orange glow of the Eiffel Tower silhouetted against the black of night, all inhibitions dissolved. Vii told her that bees were the fastest of the Miraculous wielders, and Queen Bee wanted to taste that speed.

Her wings hummed to life and the tiles of the roof disappeared from beneath her. She rose, higher, higher and decided to just pick a point on the horizon and go. Rising above the skyline, she spotted the perfect destination: the Tour Montparnasse. She felt her body lean towards the tower, her arms and legs trailing behind. The buildings, trees, streets, lamps of the city below steadily blended together into a meaningless blur. The wind whined past her ears and should have stung at her eyes, but her powers must protect them, for she found herself gazing unblinking at the black monolith that grew before her. Her heart thrummed in her chest almost as fast as her wings and she smiled. Chloé Bourgeois may have owned the city below, but Queen Bee owned the skies above. Her hair fanned and flapped behind her, her entire body felt caressed by a thin blanket of air. Nothing could steal this moment from her.

Nothing save for the twin blurs of red and black she glimpsed from the corner of her eye, emerald and sapphire gazes trained on the gold and black figure streaking across the sky. Bee smiled even wider and changed course, veering to her left until soon, her boots touched down on the roof of the École Militaire. She pulled her wings in against her shoulders and turned to see Ladybug and Chat Noir land a short distance away.

Bee threw out her arms and began to jog towards her hero. “Ladybug! I'm so glad I found...”

“That's far enough!” Ladybug shouted, her yoyo whirling to life at her side. Chat likewise brought his staff to bear and Bee skidded to a stop, her face twisted in confusion. “What's your game, Akuma?”

Bee scoffed “I am _no_ Akuma! I have a Miraculous just like you two!” She gestured to the winged comb in her hair.

It was Chat's turn to snort. “So, Hawkmoth thinks we're stupid enough to _bee_ -lieve the 'fake Miraculous wielder' thing twice, does he? That _stings_.” 

“Fake Mirac...” Bee mumbled until realization set in. She sneered and waved off their accusations. “Oh, you must mean that loser, Volpina. Useless powers, ridiculous ears, that _garish_ orange suit.” She smirked. “Really, her only redeeming quality was her taste in men.”

Ladybug's nostrils flared and a low growl formed low in her throat. Bee took no notice, but Chat nudged her with his elbow. “What's the matter, my Lady? Bee in your bonnet?” She cringed and planted her face into her palm.

“Okay, okay, bee-girl...” Ladybug started.

“Queen Bee,” she grinned. “A pleasure.”

“Queen Bee, whatever.” Ladybug lifted her head and scrutinized the supposed hero before her. “What's your kwami's name?”

“Vii.” Bee paused. “Which reminds me: before I got my powers, she mentioned a 'mothering killjoy' and a 'cheese muncher'. Are those your kwamis?”

Ladybug and Chat both squinted and seemed distant for a few moments. Then, “Yeah, Plagg says she's legit.” Ladybug nodded in agreement and the pair put away their weapons.

^Ugh,^ Vii gagged. ^Plagg is such an inelegant name. It evens  _sounds_ like a cat coughing up a hairball.^

Bee ignored her. “So, now that we've determined I'm not an Akuma, I suppose proper introductions are in order. Vii, Stripes O...”

“NO!” Ladybug and Chat cried so suddenly that Bee would have jumped out of her boots had they not been attached to the rest of her suit. “What is _wrong_ with you?” Ladybug demanded. “Didn't Vii tell you to keep your identity a secret?”

“Well,” Queen Bee shrugged, “she did, but I just assumed she meant keep it a secret from everyone but you two.”

Ladybug straightened. “We must keep our identities a secret from everyone. Hawkmoth's power is literally mind control. We're still not sure how it works, but if he akumatizes someone who knows who we are, there's a chance he could just pluck our names from their mind, and everything we've fought for is wasted.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “He can attack us at his leisure. Take our Miraculous while we sleep.” She pulled in even tighter on herself. “Use our loved ones as leverage.”

“So I won't scream my identity from the rooftops, no big,” Bee murmured with her fists on her hips. “But what's the problem with us knowing?”

“Not sure if Miraculous wielders can be akumatized or not,” Chat shook his head. “Not in any hurry to find out either.”

Bee turned her head away from the heroes and grumbled, “Stay positive and carry a can of bug spray. Got it.”

This was not going how Queen Bee expected. First they accuse her of being an Akuma, then they tell her she has to keep her identity a secret  _even from them!_ Okay, Chat Noir could kiss her fabulous honeycomb-coated posterior for all she cared, but Ladybug... She deserved to know. She deserved to know her best friend and biggest fan was out here with her. And if Ladybug knew who she was, that whole Akuma nonsense wouldn't have happened.

“...for Alya to interview you for the Ladyblog.”

Bee snapped her attention back to Ladybug. “Interview? Ladyblog?”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Okay, _now_ that I have your attention, yes, Bee, an interview. We need to let the people of Paris know they have a new hero protecting them. We put their worries to rest, it's just that much less negativity Hawkmoth can prey upon.”

A grin spread across Bee's face. Ladybug had called her a hero! “I suppose I can give the Ladyblogger a few moments of my time. I'd rather spend it out here kicking Akuma butt with my idol...”

“Aww,” Chat cooed with his hands clasped by his cheek, “how _sweet_ of you, honey!”

“ _Don't_ call me honey!” Bee snarled. Chat's hands dropped and his feline ears flattened. “Vii calls me that all the time and it drives me insane!” She folded her hands behind her back and slinked closer to Ladybug, her grin restored with each step. “Besides, I wasn't talking about you.” Ladybug took a small step backwards, masked brow arching, and let out a surprised yelp when Queen Bee lifted her up and trapped her arms at her sides in a crushing hug, a masked face rubbing affectionately against a spotted bosom.

“Oh, Ladybug! You have no idea how happy I am to be your new partner!”

“I already ha- _ave!–_ ” Bee squeezed her tighter in mid-sentence “–a partner!”

“Well now you have another one!” Bee slanted her eyes to Chat who was attempting to hold back a giggle. ' _Give it time, Ladybug. I'll overshadow that stupid, pun-spewing cat eventually._ '

Ladybug managed to jerk an arm free of the super-powered embrace and plant her hand on Bee's head. She pushed and grunted, “Yeah, we need to have a talk about boundaries!”

Bee finally released her and both Ladybug and Chat Noir drew in a deep breath, but for drastically different reasons: Ladybug to recover from Bee's flagrant violation of her personal space, and Chat to burst into rampant laughter. Queen Bee stepped away and leaned forward with her hands behind her back as though she had done nothing wrong. Ladybug planted her hands on her knees and coughed.

“I think she likes you, my Lady!”

“R-really,” she sputtered. “Never would have guessed.”

“Well, in case I need to spell it out for you...” Bee began, but was interrupted by Chat howling louder, arms clutched around his middle. “What's so funny, kitty cat?”

“'Spell it out'!” he cried. “That- _haha!-_ makes you a _spelling bee_!”

Bee froze. She blinked. Another blink. Her shoulders slumped and she groaned, “I walked right into that one, didn't I?” Chat continued laughing and Bee looked to Ladybug. “Will I ever get used to the puns?”

Ladybug looked up and shrugged. “If you're lucky. But if we can get back to _business_ –” she shot a dagger-like glare at her partner who wiped a tear away and cleared his throat “–we can discuss your powers and our patrol schedules.”

“Oh, I've been subscribed to the Ladyblog practically since day one, so I know all about your schedules and your patrol routes. That Césaire girl is _so_ OCD with the details.” Ladybug clenched her fist and growled again, yet another action lost on Bee. “And as for my powers...

“I'm apparently wicked fast, though I haven't had a real chance to stretch my wings.” Bee heard Ladybug mumble under her breath, 'I _want wings_.' She smirked and continued. “My special power is Swarm. It lets me create a bunch of clones of myself for about a minute. Plenty of time to overpower that nasty...” The smirk faltered and she tilted her head. “Okay, is an Akuma the butterfly or the villain _created_ by the butterfly?”

Chat and Ladybug looked to each other, surprise across both of their faces. They shrugged at each other. “I guess at some point they became interchangeable,” Ladybug proposed.

Chat shrugged in agreement then pointed at Bee's belt. “So, that's your weapon?

She removed the handle from her hip and flicked out the blade. “Pretty cool, huh? Gives whatever I hit a little zap. Vii calls it my stinger.” Bee waved her stinger around, causing both heroes to step away. “Soon, Hawkmoth will be wearing my sword like a shish kebab.” She made a few stabs and swipes with the sword to demonstrate her point. She spun around and swung the sword in a long arch only for Chat to step forward and block the blade with his staff.

“Well first you should stop waving that thing around like a feather duster.” The look he gave her was almost uncharacteristically stern.

Queen Bee yanked the blade back and angled her eyes at him. “Excuse me?”

“Your technique is sloppy, your stance is too stiff-kneed, and your grip is better suited to a broadsword than a foil or an épée.”

“And how would you know your way around a sword, stick-boy?” Bee chuffed, waving a hand at his baton.

Chat puffed out his chest and gave her a smug grin. “Been taking fencing lessons for years. Even been toe-to-toe with the regional champ.” He tapped a claw against his chin. “What was his name again? Andrew Arrest?”

“Adrien Agreste?” both Ladybug and Queen Bee squealed with smiles across their faces. Their heads snapped to each other and smiles shifted into scowls. ' _I love Ladybug, but there is no way I'm letting her have my Adrikins!_ '

Chat snapped his fingers. “That's him! So I believe I am quite qualified to tutor our new- _bee_ in the ways of swordplay.”

“New _-bee_? Another bee pun?” Bee deadpanned.

“Not a fan of my bee puns? What a _buzz_ kill.” She swatted at his left arm with her stinger and flinched when the quick snap of an electric arc popped from the tip. He yelped and clutched at his bicep, giving Bee a bewildered look.

Bee recovered first. “What's the matter, stray?” she sassed. “ _Shocked_ that the new- _bee_ got the upper hand on you? Or should I say 'upper _paw'_?”

Ladybug stomped her way between them and shouted, “No more puns! Both of you!” She turned a tender eye to Chat's arm. “You all right?” He waved off her concern, complaining of a little numbness, but assured her that he was fit to finish patrol. Ladybug nodded and turned her attention back to Queen Bee.

“Chat's right. You need training before we can let you join us in a fight.”

“Wait...” Bee narrowed her eyes. “Are you sidelining me?”

Ladybug gave a hesitant nod. “At least until we can get a better understanding of your powers. If an Akuma attacks in the next few days, you can help get civilians to safety, but don't get involved in the fight until we can determine how you fit in with our methods.” Queen Bee bristled at Ladybug's words, but forced her temper back down before her idol could notice. She failed.

“Look.” Ladybug moved to stand in front of Bee, resting an assuring hand on her shoulder. “It's not that we don't want your help. If Hawkmoth can create Akumas as strong as Volpina now, then we need you. It's just that...” She diverted her eyes and scrunched her brow as though searching for the right words. “Chat and I have been doing this for months and we have a rhythm. Introducing you before we figure out your place in that rhythm...you'd step on our toes and we'd step on yours.”

Queen Bee shuffled on her feet and pouted. “I... _suppose_ that makes sense. I was just excited for my big debut. You know,” she drawled as she brushed a strand of hair from her face, “all eyes on me, reporters clamoring for an interview, I get to share in that celebratory fist bu...” A beeping from her stinger interrupted her. She glanced down at it and spotted an amber hexagon blinking just under her thumb.

“Hey! We already have her in our contacts!” The girls turned to see Chat walking over and holding out his baton to show them the call screen. The tiny screen displayed the word ' _Calling_ ' followed by a yellow circle with three black bars across it.

Queen Bee looked back down to her stinger, moved her thumb over the hexagonal button, and pressed. She felt movement just behind her head and from the corner of her eye saw one of her antennae ribbons swivel down to the right side of her mouth and the other shift over her left eye. There was a pinprick of white light on the inside of that ribbon that bloomed into a screen similar to the one on Chat's baton. He turned back to his baton and waggled his eyebrows, a gesture Bee witnessed through the antenna screen.

“What?” she breathed, then jumped when her voice came through the baton. She lifted her free hand to the antenna by her mouth and tapped it. Again, the baton echoed the noise, a dull thump emitting from it. Her antenna was...a microphone?

^Everything is controlled with your voice, from communication to info searches,^ Vii explained. ^Bees are warriors, so they need to keep their hands free. Not to mention if you dropped a communicator from high altitude...^

“Okay, a hands-free headset _and_ wings?” Ladybug crossed her arms and shot a look that was a perfect blend of frustration, disappointment, and...was that...was that _jealousy_? Was Ladybug jealous of Queen Bee?

Oh, how delicious.

(#)

Chloé woke the next morning refreshed if not feeling like a total glutton for indulging in _two_ pints of frozen yogurt. Last night just went that well. Ladybug was well on her way to trusting her, they agreed to take her on their nightly patrols starting tonight, and the best part, Ladybug was actually _jealous_! Chloe's super-powered idol was jealous! Of her! Finding this comb was the best thing to ever happen to her, even if Vii was an insufferable little gnat and Chat insisted that she –Chloé almost gagged at the thought– _train_ with him.

Regardless, it's good to be the Queen.

' _Except you still have that stupid essay looming over your head and you haven't made a single_ dent _in it because you stayed up all night flirting with Ladybug harder than that stupid cat._ '

' _Shut up, me. Let me enjoy this._ '

Before leaving the hotel, Chloé switched over to a purse without a fur-lined interior for the sake of easier pretzel-crumb cleanup. Even so, Vii refused to abandon what she called the 'cozy confines' of Chloe's hair until Chloé promised to introduce her to the wonders of soft pretzels. After Vii was nestled into Chloé's purse with a sufficient enough supply of snacks, Chloé rode the elevator to the ground floor, slid into her limo, and opened up the Ladyblog on her phone.

After a few seconds of swiping through identity theories and fan art, Chloé came across something that made her bite her tongue to keep from screeching in the car. If anything could have dampened her mood, it was the blurry, grainy photo of her in that dark alley with her head twisted over her shoulder. Her expression was equal parts shocked and confused, her hair was an absolute mess, and she was hunched over like some sort of gremlin. It was posted around eleven o'clock last night, barely nine hours ago, but it had already racked up over ten thousand hits, several thousand reblogs, and hundreds of comments.

When Chloé stepped out of her limo in front of the school, her mood sat at an extreme one-eighty from when she stepped in. She had taken the entire ride to peruse the comments on her –shall we say– 'candid' debut. Some expressed excitement, others fear of what Hawkmoth was planning if Paris had another hero. Just as many called her a hoax or some over-enthusiastic cosplayer, and a few dared to call her an Akuma, just as Ladybug and Chat had last night. Turns out, Volpina had left a foul taste in everyone's mouth.

“Hello, Chloé,” Sabrina greeted with her usual vigor and enthusiasm. “Sorry I couldn't help you with your essay, but I might be able to help you tonight if...”

Chloé responded only with a disinterested grunt. That essay was the last thing on her mind. She needed to fix this. She needed something. Anything. An Akuma. House fire. Cat stuck in a _freaking_ tree. She needed enough pics, footage, and interviews to erase all memory of that...that... _abomination_ plastered on the blog. Queen Bee _will_ become Paris' most...second most beloved hero. She will be respected. She will be feared.

She will _not_ be mocked.

The entire class, sans a certain absent model, stood, sat, or crouched around Alya when Chloé strode into Miss Bustier's classroom and made her way to her seat. All eyes were trained on the blogger's phone, likely on the picture taken last night.

“So, how'd you get that?” Alix asked. “Is that a legit new hero or Photoshop?”

Nino chuckled. “Or did Chloé trade in her spots for stripes?”

For once, Chloé thanked the stars above that no one was paying attention to her, because she visibly stiffened in her seat. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not this soon! Didn't Vii mention something about the Miraculous protecting her identity? There was no way that useless DJ had figured her out that fast. No, of course he couldn't have. He was just talking about her Ladybug costume. But just to be safe... She skewed her eyes to her left. Marinette and Alya looked on her with skepticism, along with Rose, Juleka, Nathanaël, pretty much everyone she had a hand in getting akumatized. Everyone else shifted their attention from Alya's phone to the blonde heiress. Time for some damage control.

“Please,” Chloe drolled. “As if some bee hero could ever garner my adoration more than Ladybug.”

“For once,” Alya grumbled, “I... _agree_ with Chloé. There's no way this is her.”

“No, it totally could be.” Nino hopped out of his seat to stand beside Alya and poked at her phone. “See? Blonde hair in a ponytail, blue eyes...”

“First of all, couldn't she be, oh I don't know, literally any other blonde-haired blue-eyed girl in Paris? Second,” Alya pinched his hand between two fingers and pulled it away from her phone. “No touchy.”

“Hellooooo,” Alix sang. “Getting off topic. How'd you get the pic?”

Alya glanced over her shoulder. “My little sister, Chess–” ' _Ah, so the little troll has a name._ ' “–was out late studying with friends and snapped this on her way home.” She returned her eyes to her phone and smiled. “She was so excited when she showed it to me. Wouldn't stop talking about Bumblebee or Honey Bee or whoever this is. Reminded me of myself when I first started up the blog.” She sniffed and wiped a mock tear from her eye. “They grow up so fast.”

No. Queen. _Queen_ Bee! Chloé clenched her fist and bit her lip. She was no common worker, no mindless drone. She was royalty. Princess on the ground, Queen in the sky. And she deserved better than a single low-res photo and a substandard moniker. ' _If there be a just god in this world, let there be something,_ anything _, that will allow me to right this horrible injustice._ '

Alya's phone buzzed. Her finger swiped across the screen and her eyes lit up. “Akuma attack! Just south of the Arc du Triomphe!” She jumped up and slung her school bag over her shoulder.

Ah, the power of prayer.

“Alya,” Marinette reached out to her friend. “Class starts in, like, fifteen minutes. You don't have time to chase Akumas.”

“Girl, we're just studying more Tchaikovsky, and you should know me by now: you cut me, I bleed _Swan Lake_.”

Miss Bustier chose that moment to walk into the classroom. “Then you'll love the discussion we'll have regarding the numerous alternate endings. Take your seats, people!” The class groaned, none louder than Alya, and everyone returned to their seats. Almost everyone.

“Miss Bustier!” Alya pleaded. “I have to go cover this attack!”

“No,” Miss Bustier corrected. “You can't afford any more absences, Miss Césaire. Your mother...” She paused when Chloé stood and strode to the door. “Miss Bourgeois, where are you going?”

Chloé didn't stop or turn her head when she replied, “Restroom.” The teacher yelled something through the door about returning soon. Little did she know, Chloé had no intention of doing that.f

Once outside, Chloé shut the door behind her and considered her options. Obviously, she had to be at the attack. But if Alya wasn't there to document everything, then what was the point? How was she going to get herself _and_ Alya excused from class?

' _Maybe you should just go. Ladybug would appreciate your help, and there will probably be plenty of news crews to interview you when we defeat the Akuma. Who cares if the Ladyblogger isn't there for your debut?'_

_'Uh,_ I _care! Now shut up! I'm trying to thiiii–hellooo...'_ She smirked as a brilliant yet simple plan bloomed in her mind. She glanced around to ensure she was alone, took a few steps down the hallway...

And pulled the fire alarm.


	3. A Shock to the Senses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's first Akuma. Let's see how it goes...

While students filed out of their classrooms in droves, Chloé strolled towards the restroom just as she said. She flung open the door and turned to the mirrors above the sink. Lipstick: perfect. Mascara: flawless. It was a shame her eye shadow would be hidden behind the mask, but even so, the rest of her make-up was pristine. She peeled her lips back to ensure no specks of food had lodged between her teeth. There would be no slip-ups. No embarrassments. This time, Queen Bee's debut photos would. Be. _Perfect_.

“..just need to find a place to...” a familiar (and infuriating) voice whispered from the door. It ceased when its owner spotted Chloé with one hand braced on the sink and the other on her hip.

“Who are you talking to, Cheng?” Chloé spat.

Marinette stared at Chloé, her mouth hung open, her eyes wide, and her hand in her purse. “Uh, no one! I mean, talking to myself!” Marinette snapped her purse closed. “Just need to find a place to...find a...fire extinguisher!” She gestured towards the red box against the wall, a goofy grin on her face. “Yeah, in case there's a fire! W-which there might be because of the...”

“I can hear the alarm, Marinette. I'm not deaf,” Chloe sneered, “though your voice makes me wish I was.”

Marinette growled low in her throat and Chloé raised a brow at the noise. Why did it sound familiar? “Aren't you going to evacuate?” Marinette asked with an artificial sweetness in her voice.

“There's no fire.” Chloé pretended to check her nails, though she truly wished she could throw Marinette out the door. However, she couldn't seem too eager to get rid of her. “I saw a student from another class pull the fire alarm. Probably a stupid dare, or something.”

“Well, in that case, shouldn't you get back to class?”

“I'm not done in here, _thank you_. Now, buzz off.” Chloé smiled inwardly. Chat would have been proud of that one. Marinette only lingered for a few seconds more before she disappeared outside. Chloé groaned and popped open her own purse. Vii flew out of it and hovered over the sink, shaking pretzel crumbs out of her neck fuzz.

“Who was that?” Vii asked.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The most irritating girl in this school. Now,” she slid a hand through her ponytail and clenched her hands into fists at her sides “As much as I'd love to give an in-depth description of my eternal loathing for her, I have better places to be. Vii, Stripes On!”

She swore she would never get used to the transformation. The feeling of energy and strength funneling into her through every pore on her body. The sensation of her second skin wrapping around her. The power and authority that came with the mask that adhered itself to her face. When the golden light around her settled, Queen Bee rolled a few kinks out of her neck, then shot out her wings and fluttered up to the windows above the toilet stalls.

It would have taken Chloé around thirty minutes to reach the Akuma attack on foot. Granted, it would have taken her longer to even discern which direction to walk. Though she claimed to rule Paris, she couldn't find her way around without her driver. How Alya knew the city so well was beyond Chloé's understanding, but fortunately, she didn't need a driver or a map when she had altitude. As Queen Bee, it took only two minutes of flight to reach the site of the attack: Lycée Janson de Sailly.

She hovered above the building to survey the scene: several of the school's walls lay in piles of rubble blocking off some of the narrow streets. The scattered students trampled glass from broken streetlamps into the asphalt. Overturned cars lay on the sidewalks and, in some places, inside buildings near the school. Ambulance sirens and screams filled her ears, and there was something...a static in the air that made her skin tingle. She searched the crowd for any sign of the Akuma, but nothing caught her attention until her stinger began to beep. She pressed the button on it without taking it from her hip, and when the antenna screen swung in front of her eye, she saw the symbol for the caller: a green paw inside a black circle.

She sighed and grumbled, “Answer.” Chat's face popped up on the screen and he opened his mouth to speak. “For every bee pun you make, I sting you again.”

He smirked and waggled his brows. She growled at the maddening gesture. “You honestly think I'd crack out the bee puns this early in the morning?”

Queen Bee huffed. “This is _you_ we're talking about.”

His face stretched into fake shock and he planted a hand on his chest. “Why Queenie! _Hive_ never been so offended!”

“That's one sting. Now where's the Akuma? And where are _you_?”

“ _Bee_ -hind you and to the left.” She turned, mentally adding another sting to her ledger, and found him waving on the roof of a cafe to the north of the school. She dropped out of the sky and landed next to him, but kept her wings spread. He stashed his baton back on his belt and said, “As for the Akuma, no idea. Best to just sit tight until Ladybug gets here.” The smile that grew on his face told Queen Bee exactly what he was about to do.

“No.” She crossed her arms and looked away.

“You know...”

“Don't.” She whipped her head back to him and glared, daring him to continue.

“...we just need to...”

“I swear to god, cat...” She stepped closer and shook a finger in his face.

“... _beehive_ ourselves.”

Livid blue met amused green. “Do you just stay up all night coming up with these ridiculous puns?”

“Hey,” he held up his hands in a gesture of defense. “I've spent the last few months limited to just ladybug and cat jokes. With you on the team, I have all new material avail...”

A deafening peal of thunder cut off his sentence. The pair clamored to the edge of the roof and peered down on the streets below them. In a three meter wide crater crackling with electricity stood what they assumed was the Akuma. She wore a loose ninja-esque gi and pants in a beep blue broken up at the waist with a golden sash. Her tabi boots and padded bracers were black as was the cloth mask covering the lower half of her face. Electric yellow eyes peered out from beneath her wavy black bangs and the rest of her shoulder length hair was held back by a blue headband. Strapped to her back was a metal box with what looked like a Tesla coil sitting on top. Electricity arced from the coil down her arms, crossed over her chest.

“Bring me Emelie Carron,” she demanded, “or I reduce this entire arrondissement to ash.”

This was it. This was perfect. Her first Akuma. Queen Bee scanned the area for a news crew van, maybe a helicopter, or...there! Just to the east, she spotted Alya swinging her leg off of her bike and letting it fall against the side of a building. When she pulled her phone from her pocket, Queen Bee ripped her stinger from her belt and buzzed her wings to life. The moment she left the ground, however, Chat grasped her wrist and pulled her back.

“We should wait for Ladybug!”

Queen Bee glowered down at the cat. “Think the Akuma will wait?”

Chat loosened his grip, but did not release her. He cast his eyes down to the streets and to the Akuma who threw out her arm and called a bolt of lightning from the coil to illustrate her point. The arc etched along the asphalt, leaving a molten red scar in its wake.

He returned his gaze to Queen Bee. “Distraction only. Keep her attention off the civilians until Ladybug gets here.”

She nodded and zipped out over the streets. Distraction. Translation: keep all eyes on her. You'd hear no arguments from her. And who could look away from a yellow and black bug-themed superhero with a wingspan as wide as she is tall? Alya was recording not too far from the Akuma herself, so Bee situated herself about halfway between the two. Close enough to draw the attention of both.

“Hey, Akuma! Up here!”

The Akuma turned her disinterested eyes upwards. “You're new.”

Bee raised her head and smirked. “Queen Bee, undisputed ruler of the skies and Ladybug's new partner!”

“Great,” the Akuma sighed. “Another bug to zap.” She pointed her palm at Bee, but a silver baton crashed into her wrist just as an arc of electricity shot out. The jagged line of plasma cut across the street and split a car in half just beneath Bee. Chat leapt from the roof, snatched the spinning baton out of the air, and extended it into a full staff as his boots touched the street.

“You've been _charged_ with destruction of private property, lightning bug!” Chat pointed his staff at the Akuma, then winked up at Queen Bee. “See? That's how witty banter is done.”

“You're puns are revolting, Chat!” Queen Bee griped.

Chat snorted. “Re- _volt_ -ing?”

“Enough!” Electricity coated both of the Akuma's arms and she pointed a palm at each hero. “I'll atomize you both and pluck your Miraculous out of the ashes!” Bee and Chat readied their weapons, but the pink outline of a butterfly over the Akuma's face made all three pause. “...understood,” she nodded. The Akuma directed her attention and both palms at Chat Noir.

Queen Bee's eyes widened and her lips peeled back in a wicked snarl. ' _Am I...am I being ignored_?'

^No no no! Don't do anything stupid!^ Vii pleaded to deaf ears.

Her body angled towards the Akuma, her arm pulled the stinger back. She lunged forward, the buzzing of her wings drowning out Chat's shouts of protest. The Akuma stumbled when Bee jabbed the stinger into her ribs, but did little more even as blue sparks jumped between the blade and the gi. When the Akuma turned her cold eyes to Queen Bee, shock and dismay replaced the hero's rage.

“I feed off of electricity, you stupid insect.” Queen Bee felt a hand pressed against her chest seconds before blinding white filled her vision.

(#)

. _..mommy?..._

_...yes, princess?..._

_...*thumpthump*..._

_...you're gonna be okay, right?..._

_...of course, princess..._

_...*thumpthump*..._

_...I...I don't wanna be alone..._

_...even if you don't have me, you don't have to be alone. Just be strong and be confident..._

_...*thumpthump*..._

_...and you'll never...never want for friends..._

_...*thump*...*thump*..._

_...okay mommy!..._

_...*thump*......*thump*..._

_...*thump*.........*thump*..._

_...*thump*..._

_..._

_..._

_...mommy?..._

(#)

Her head swam, for how long she didn't know. Seconds? Minutes? A soft rocking and a distant voice called her consciousness back to the surface. “...lrigh...ee-girl?” A dull whine accompanied the rapid cracks of electricity in Queen Bee's ears. She blinked her eyes open and found herself on her back with a bespectacled red-head leaning over her with a hand on her shoulder. She sat up, a headache forming in her temples, and glanced around for the Akuma, who she found battling Chat Noir and Ladybug just up the street.

“About time she showed up,” Queen Bee muttered.

“Hey,” she heard a gentle voice to her left. “You alright, bee-girl?”

Queen Bee turned to Alya and saw on her face an expression she'd never seen before, at least not directed at her. Concern. Worry.

' _Would she still be worried if she knew who you were under this mask?_ '

' _Of course she would! Everyone adores me!_ '

“Yeah, fine,” she mumbled, pushing herself to her feet. “And it's Queen Bee.”

“Queen Bee,” Alya tested with a steadily blooming smile. “So cool!” Her eyes lowered to Bee's chest. “That was a heck of a hit you took,” she noted.

Queen Bee brought her fingers to her chest, but found no sign of the Akuma's attack. Not a single scratch or blemish on her suit. It was then that she noticed the phone trained on her. Time to play it up for the fans. “One of the perks of being a superhero:” she patted her chest with a grin, “indestructible supersuit.”

“Awesome...” Another crack of lightning shook the air, and both girls turned their attention to the battle. Alya jerked her thumb towards the Akuma. “Shouldn't you be helping?”

Bee crossed her arms. “Ladybug doesn't want me getting in the way until we understand my powers better.” A smirk played at her lips as she eyed Alya's phone, the swinging ladybug charm hanging from it almost hypnotic. “I'm actually supposed to be protecting civilians, and since you're a civilian, how about I protect you and you interview me?”

“Is...uh...is this really a good time?”

“As good a time as...”

“Excuse me...”

They both turned to see a younger girl in a white button-down shirt and plaid skirt playing with the cinnamon-colored braid swept over her shoulder. She turned her pleading brown eyes to Queen Bee. “Are...are you a superhero?”

“I am,” she beamed. “Name's Queen Bee.”

The girl licked her lips and continued. “My name is Emelie, and I think that Akuma is my friend, Nicole.”

“Oh, so _you're_ the one she's looking for?” Bee guessed.

Emelie nodded. “She thinks I tried to sabotage her science fair project, but she's wrong.” She squeezed her braid tighter. “I was trying to fix it! She didn't properly ground the secondary...”

“Okay,” Queen Bee interrupted. “You can spare us the science-y mumbo jumbo.” She rolled her fingers in a gesture that suggested the girl 'get on with it.'

Emelie gulped. “Well, she caught me messing with her Tesla coil and–” she tilted her chin at the stormy ninja who had just sent a charge up Ladybug's yoyo wire “–you know the rest. Look, I know if I can just talk to her, explain what happened...”

“Say no more, kid.” Bee grabbed the girl by the hand and strode towards the battle, Emelie stumbling over her own feet as she tried to keep up.

“Hey Queen!” Alya called after the hero. “Aren't you supposed to be _protecting_ civilians? Not dragging them into danger?”

Bee whirled around, but with Emelie's hand still in hers, she ended up jerking the girl around in a circle. “Are you kidding? She's with me. She's in no...”

“Look out!” a voice from above them yelled. Bee turned her head just in time to see a stream of electricity splinter against a whirling disk of red. A blur of black and silver kicked off of the Akuma's head and landed next to Ladybug, staff at the ready. The stream fizzled into nothing and the Akuma clenched her fists in rage.

“ _Emelie!_ ” she screamed, sparks streaming from her glowing eyes. “You tried to ruin my work! My chances at a science scholarship, at getting into a good university!”

“No, Nicole!” She drew her hand from Bee's and stepped forward. “I was trying to fix the grounding wire on...”

“I don't want to hear it! And my _name! Is! Shockra!_ ” With each word she threw another bolt of lightning, easily deflected by Ladybug and Chat.

“A ninja named Shockra?” Chat mused. “Hawkmoth's been watching too much Naruto.”

“Bee! Get Emelie and Alya out of here!” Ladybug barked over her shoulder.

Queen Bee's jaw clenched at the idea of taking orders, and had they come from anyone other than Ladybug, she would have verbally torn that person apart. Instead, she grabbed Emelie and Alya by the hands, spread her wings, and buzzed them as hard as she could. Flying with a load proved strenuous, but she eventually lifted all three of them off of the ground and had just crested the rooftops when a bolt of lightning streaked out of the sky and slammed into the roof to their left. From the smoke and debris emerged...Shockra? Queen Bee glanced back down and saw the Akuma still fighting Ladybug and Chat, so how...?

Her answer came in the form of more lighting bolts and more Shockras, eight total. “Lightning clones?” Alya murmured, her phone aimed at the duplicates. “Jeez, Chat's right: Hawkmoth _has_ been watching too much Naruto.” Bee willed her wings to beat faster, flying the trio down the streets, but the clones ran along the rooftops, matching their speed no matter how hard she flapped and buzzed.

^Don't push yourself so hard, honey! You're not used to your wings yet!^

' _Stop distracting me, Vii!_ '

“Why aren't they throwing lightning at us?” Emelie wondered.

“Disappointed that we aren't getting fried?' Bee snapped.

“No, she's right!” Alya gestured to the nearest group of clones with her phone. “These don't have Tesla coils on their backs! Maybe the akuma is in the coil!”

Bee groaned. “We call the villain an Akuma, we call the friggin _butterfly_ an akuma! This is too confusi _waah_!” A clone leapt from the roof, hands outstretched. Bee pushed her wings to buzz faster so she could fly over it. Before she could gain enough altitude, a hand clamped down around her calf. She squealed when she dropped lower, now supporting the weight of four on her wings, then drew her other knee into her chest and stomped down on the clone's face. It disappeared in a cloud of static, and when another clone jumped, Bee whirled around, swinging Alya towards it. “Kick!” she commanded. The blogger's foot met the clone's chest and it too dissipated.

Feeling a throbbing ache between her shoulders, Queen Bee dropped closer to the ground intending to land but stilled her wings a bit too suddenly. Alya and Emelie hit the asphalt hard but managed to stay on their feet. Bee landed on her knees, immediately shot a hand to her shoulder, and rubbed to soothe the dull burn there.

“Why does this friggin hurt?” she moaned. “Aren't these wings just part of my suit?” The remaining six clones landed in a circle the trio, their dead and dull eyes locked on Emelie. She'd have to worry about her shoulders some other time. “Alright,” Queen Bee groaned as she pushed herself to her feet, “time to topple these doppelgangers.”

“Girl,” Alya groaned, “leave the puns to Chat.”

“Noted.” Queen Bee lifted her hand to her hip, but swiped only at air. She turned her eyes to her belt. Her stinger...she last had it when Shockra blasted her in the chest and...where did it go?

^Call to it with your mind,^ Vii chimed in.

“What?”

“I didn't say anything,” Alya muttered, one arm with her phone held out, the other around Emelie.

^Focus on the stinger coming to your hand.^

Call to it? Focus? Queen Bee shook her head and held out her right hand. What did she have to lose? She concentrated on the stinger lifting off the ground, wherever it was, and flying into her hand, just like that movie Adrien made her watch all those years ago. The one with some loser hanging upside-down in an ice cave. _Star_...something. A high-pitched hum sounded from just up the street, and Bee's stinger flew above the heads of the clones borne on the buzzing wings that made up its hilt. It zoomed handle first into Bee's grip and the wings folded over her fist.

“So. Friggin. _Cool._ ” Alya whispered. Emelie nodded, her eyes wide.

Bee smirked. “Yes, yes I am.” She lunged forward and her blade found its way into the stomach of the nearest clone. It doubled over before shattering into a shower of sparks. She swung wide and caught a second clone in the temple then spun and used the momentum to run the silver shaft into the armpit of a third. A shriek and the sound of rapid footfalls behind her pulled her attention away from another clone just as it brought a fist against her face. Electricity, pain, and then numbness bloomed across her cheek. Queen Bee lifted her enraged eyes to the clone, and despite being a lifeless copy, she swore she saw it flinch.

Her wings lifted her from the street and a swift sweep of her leg to the back of its head took care of it. She rubbed at her cheek, not sure if there would be a mark on her face. She decided it was another matter to worry about later and turned to find Alya and Emelie running down the sidewalk hand in hand, the last two clones in pursuit. Queen Bee flew after them, but four bolts of lightning struck down in her path. She veered to the side just as four more Shockra clones dashed from the electric discharge.

She buzzed around the clones and zoomed up beside Alya. “They keep popping up!” she yelled to her.

“Take...take care of the original!” Alya panted. “I can protect Emelie! Go!”

' _Yes! Go! Join Ladybug! This is your moment to shine!_ '

' _But leaving her alone to fight these clones doesn't feel right._ '

' _So? She said she could take them! Now go!_ '

' _Or I could do this..._ '

Queen Bee felt a warmth blossom from her Miraculous, an energy that surged down her spine and along her limbs. She slowed to hover in place, raised her stinger above her head, and cried, “ _Swarm!_ ” An orb of golden light engulfed the tip of her stinger and she flung it towards the clones. Alya stopped running, forgetting her promise to protect Emelie for a moment, to whirl around and document the new hero's power.

The gold orb split into six smaller balls which then grew and formed into six exact duplicates of Queen Bee standing in a row, except their eyes were a deep solid blue, more like Vii's eyes than Bee's and none of them wore a Miraculous. The clones ceased their chase, but Queen Bee's duplicates did little more beyond drawing their stingers.

^Give them a command!^ Vii squeaked.

“Uh, protect...them?” She gestured towards Alya and Emelie with her stinger. The...worker bees?...drones? _Drones_. The drones surged forward with a speed that impressed even Queen Bee, showering the Shockra clones with a flurry of stabs, swipes, and kicks. Two clones immediately fell and the remaining four took on defensive stances. By the time two more bolts of lightning crashed down to replace the first two clones, another had shattered into sparks. One of the drones took a heavy kick to the chest and burst into a flurry of golden dust. Queen Bee, enraged that one of her loyal subjects had fallen, zoomed into the fray, delivering a sharp knee to the face of the offending clone.

Just as three more clones fell to the onslaught, pink light shone down in the streets and Queen Bee looked up to see a cloud of ladybugs descend upon the city. Cars were magically repaired, walls made whole, and when the cloud swept over the streets, the numbness in Bee's face disappeared as did the Shockra clones around her.

Emelie smiled and gazed in wonder at the magic insects. “They...they saved Nicole.”

“Of course they did,” Alya hugged the girl. “They're heroes. It's what they do.”

Queen Bee landed and returned her stinger to her hip. “Even if they do it without _me_ ,” she mumbled.

“Don't sell yourself short, Queen.” Alya sauntered over and threw an arm over Bee's shoulder. They watched Emelie sprint down the sidewalk towards a similarly dressed girl kneeling in the street.“You protected us from those ninja clones like a total boss!”

“But I wanted to help with the actual Akuma,” Bee pouted, shrugging off Alya's arm, “not with those cheap knock-offs.”

The hum of yoyo wire signaled Ladybug's approach. She landed in front of Queen Bee and gave her a reserved smile. “I think you helped more than you realize, Bee. I assume you fought those lightning clones with some clones of your own?” She nodded to the duplicates behind Queen Bee.

“Drones, actually.” She glanced over her shoulder at her remaining drones and watched as all five fizzled into clouds of golden lights.

“I think Shockra had to concentrate to maintain her clones. Pitting them against your drones distracted her enough for Chat to destroy the Tesla coil.” Bee heard Alya whisper something that sounded like 'knew it' under her breath. Ladybug held out her fist. “You did good today...Queen Bee.”

When Bee's steadily widening eyes landed on Ladybug's extended fist, her jaw dropped and she took half a step back. Was...was she actually going to get a fist bump from Ladybug? She tentatively stretched out her arm and recoiled when Ladybug retracted hers with a stern look on her face.

“We still need to have a talk about following instructions and taking unnecessary risks, but for now...” She smirked and offered her fist once more. “Pound it.”

Queen Bee thumped her fist against Ladybug's and fireworks ignited in her chest. This was it! She was officially teammates with Ladybug! Partners! Besties on both sides of her mask! Her grin split her face in two and she swore she felt a tear streaking from the corner of her eye. She couldn't contain herself when she rushed forward and crushed Ladybug's lungs for the second time in the last twelve hours.

Ladybug squirmed in the embrace and shouted, “Boundaries! Boundaries!”

Alya snickered behind her phone. “This is totally going on the blog!”

“Don't you dare!” Ladybug yelped with a threatening finger shaking towards Alya.

“Okay, okay.” Alya turned her attention to Queen Bee. “So, Queen, now that there's no imminent danger, how about that interview?”

Queen Bee immediately dropped Ladybug and turned her awestruck face to the blogger. “You...you mean it? You want to interview me?”

“Of course!” Alya confirmed. “New hero on the scene? I'd be crazy to pass up that scoop!”

Queen Bee had barely opened her mouth to respond when a small beep sounded from just behind her head. “Some other time, Alya,” Ladybug sighed as her own Miraculous beeped. “We need to get out of here. Bug out!” She paused and flashed a smile at Queen Bee. “Though I guess it's more _Bugs_ out, now.” She gave a two-fingered salute and threw out her yoyo, disappearing beyond the rooftops. Bee also flicked out her wings and buzzed off of the ground.

Alya scrunched her nose and shoved her phone back into her pocket, trudging back to her bike. “Five o'clock. Notre Dame,” she heard behind her. She whirled around to see Queen Bee still floating there. “Unless you have something better to do, Miss Ladyblogger.”

Alya's face lit up. “Oh, you can count on it, Queenie!”

(#)

Queen Bee slipped back into the restroom at Francois-DuPont with seconds to spare before her Miraculous timed out. Golden light swirled around her feet, rising over her body and dissolving her suit. As the light passed over her head and melted away her mask, Vii spiraled out of the comb and phased into Chloé's purse. Chloé rolled her shoulders and reached up to rub her neck.

“Is flying supposed to hurt like this?”

The purse popped open revealing Vii with a pretzel in her paws. “I told you not to push yourself. But would you listen?” She took a bite of pretzel and swallowed. “ _Noooooooo..._ You just _had_ to impress Ladybug and that red-haired girl.”

Chloé glared down at her kwami. “I'll have you know, 'that red-haired girl' runs a blog dedicated to Ladybug. Of course I had to impress her.”

“Blooooog...” Vii tested the word. She shook her head. “ _Eeeuuuck_! I think I hate that word worse than 'Plagg'.”

“Well, get used to it, because you'll probably hear it another thousand times as often as Alya will want to interview me.”

“I dun hafa get use to anytin, huneh,” Vii mumbled with her mouth full.

A low groan. “Still with the 'honey' thing? Am I not part of 'your hive' yet?”

“ _Honey..._ ” Chloé grimaced at the emphasis Vii put on the word. “It'll take a lot more than a single fight to earn my respect.”

“So, what _will_ it take?”

“You must truly understand what it means to become a bee first.”

Chloé wanted nothing more than to throttle the little sprite, but conceded that she'd come around in time, just like the rest of Paris. A stream of interviews with Alya, a few more fights with Ladybug, and the whole city would soon be chanting her name. But now, she needed to get back to class before anyone could notice how long she'd been gone. Either that or fake some excuse about slipping in the restroom so she could skip school for the day. As loud as her shoulders were screaming for a hot bath or a masseuse, she honestly considered the latter.

She strode out of the restroom and into the hallway, the fire alarm since silenced. As she made her way back to the classroom, deciding not to let a few sore muscles rob her of precious time with Adrien, she contemplated Vii's words. What it means to become a bee... ' _It means_ I _am the Queen. It means_ I _rule the hive. And it means that soon, the whole of Paris, and even Hawkmoth himself, will bow before me._ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr @krzed for more!


	4. Long Live the Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Bee's interview with Alya both does and doesn't go as planned...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to first of all apologize for how long it's taken to get this chapter published. Lots of irl crap happening to me in the last 7 months. I'd also like to give a big thanks to agesia for beta reading this and helping me get this fic out of hiatus.

“Chloé, do you have an explanation for where you were during the evacuation?” Miss Bustier demanded the moment the girl in question stepped back into the classroom. “And for the first–” she looked at her watch “–twenty minutes of class?”

“I told you before I stepped outside,” Chloé mumbled, ignoring the eyes on her as she made her way to her desk. “Restroom.”

“Well,” Miss Bustier planted her fists on her hips, “you should know that when the fire alarm goes off, evacuation takes priority over powdering your nose.”

“There wasn't a fire.” She sat in her seat, rolling her shoulders again, and dug her tablet from her bag. “Some kid from another class pulled the alarm. Probably another one of Kim's stupid dares.”

“I-I had nothing to do with it!” Kim jumped from his seat and waved his hands. “I only make dares with Alix! A-and nothing reckless like pulling a fire alarm!”

“I realize that Kim, and thank you.” Miss Bustier turned her gaze back to the front row. “Now, Chloé, I can't just overlook something like thi–”

“Su-su-success!” The entire class turned to the door only to see Alya leaned against the frame, panting. She coughed and took a deep breath, then held her phone aloft, a wide grin upon her face. “F-first footage of the * _pant_ * t- the new hero!”

“You alright Alya?” Nino asked.

“Pe-pedaled fast as I could to get back in t-time for class.” She swallowed and gasped. “G-g-gonna die now.” She fell over, thankfully towards Nino, who jumped from his seat to catch her.

“Friggin drama queen,” Chloé muttered with none of her usual fire. Why wouldn't Alya be excited to interview a new hero? Especially if said hero was Paris' beloved Chloé Bourgeois? Not that anyone would ever know that if Ladybug had her way. Maybe once all this was over and Hawkmoth was behind bars.

“Alya, what did I tell you about chasing after Akumas?” Miss Bustier bellowed.

“Uh,” Alya coughed and offered the teacher a sheepish smile. “D-don't?”

She nodded. “And that's why you'll be joining Chloé in detention. Now–”

“Wait, what?” Chloé jumped to her feet and slammed her hands on her desk. “I walk in a few minutes late because I had to use the restroom and you're giving me detention? I’ll have you know that when Daddy…” She stopped. Miss Bustier gave her a knowing look and Chloé remembered her father was no longer in her corner. “Well...at least I didn't leave the building!”

“It's not just tardiness, Chloé. It's tardiness during a fire evacuation.”

“Uh, what's this about detention?” Adrien now stood in the doorway, looking from an angry Miss Bustier down to Alya who still hadn't recovered from her exhaustion enough to acknowledge her punishment, to Chloé whose fingernails were digging into the wooden desktop. “Am I too late?”

“Miss Sancouer forwarded your photoshoot schedule to me earlier, Adrien. You're excused.”

“Oh, okay,” he shrugged. “I'll just–”

“Sorry! Sorry I'm late, I–” came a cry from behind Adrien. He turned only for a blur of pink and gray to slam into his chest and knock him backwards. He landed hard on his back and his assailant landed with her face squished against his chest and her legs on either side of him. Marinette shook her head and pushed herself up. When she realized just who she had attacked, and who she was currently straddling, all the blood in her body teleported to her face and she scrambled away from him with a shrill whine.

“S-sorry! I mean'nt did I mean didn't mean to Tadrien, uh, t-tackle Adrien I'm so sorry!”

“So if I get detention for coming in late,” Chloé started, “does that mean Marinette gets two detentions for coming in late _and_ assaulting my Adrikins?”

“I'll dispense the discipline, Chloé,” Miss Bustier scolded. “Marinette will receive detention along with you and Alya, but only one since it seems Marinette's, er, clumsiness just got the better of her.” She turned to see Adrien standing and offering Marinette his hand. She shakily accepted it with a wide grin and he pulled her to her feet. “See? No harm done.”

_'No harm done. Who does she think she is? Maritrash could have ruined Adrien's million euro face and Miss Bustier would let her off with a slap on the wrist. At least she still gets detention. And maybe someday I'll get to rub being a superhero in her stupid little face.'_

(#)

Chloé should have been working on the essay. It was due in two days and she hadn't even started. Yes, she had taken some half-hearted notes, read (more like skimmed) a few articles, and was still waiting for Sabrina's assistance. And being in detention with Alya and Marinette should have been the perfect time to catch up on her work.

Unfortunately, she was too focused on the phone she had hidden under the desk.

Fred Haprele was in charge of watching them for the next hour, but had been called away for some irrelevant reason, so Chloé took this opportunity to, shall we say, catch up on current events. Her eyes sparkled as she reviewed Alya's footage of the Akuma fight. Shaky as it was, it still captivated her. Alya had focused entirely on Queen Bee from the moment Shockra blasted her in the chest. From flying away with her and Emelie to protecting them from the lightning clones, Chloé couldn't tear her eyes away. That was her. She was Queen Bee. She was a hero.

“Thought you weren't much of a Queen Bee fan.”

Chloé turned to look over her shoulder and caught Alya smirking at her. “I never said that,” Chloé whispered. “She can't hold a candle to Ladybug, but I have to admit.” She smiled back down at her phone. “Queen Bee has style.”

“She is so cool!” Alya giggled. “I mean, it's obvious she's new to this, but her powers are awesome! She can fly, she has that wicked sword, she summons these drones that follow...”

“Alya,” Marinette interrupted, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder. “Maybe you should save gushing about the new hero until after detention.”

“Yeah,” Chloé remarked before she realized she had actually agreed with Marinette. “Don't want to get held up any longer than you have to. You're already gonna be late to your interview with Queen Bee.”

“Yeah I guess you're...wait...how did you know about the interview?”

Chloé tensed slightly in her seat. That's right. She wasn't supposed to know about that. By some great fortune, the video on her phone had just showed footage of Queen Bee setting the time and place for Alya's exclusive interview. She held up her phone and said, “Y-you just mentioned it. See?”

Alya nodded and smiled, accepting the small lie which wasn't entirely a lie. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Mr. Haprele chose that moment to poke his head back into the classroom and check on them. Luckily, Chloé's phone zipped back under her desk before he could see it. She pretended to dig something from her bag, and Mr. Haprele seemed content with the student's behavior. When he left, Chloé dropped the book she'd lifted from her bag and turned her eyes back to her phone.

_'Essay.'_

_'Oh, please. There's plenty of time to get it done.'_

_'Essay.'_

_'Sabrina promised she'd help. I don't want to do all of the work only for her to finally pull through when I've done everything.'_

_'...essay.'_

_'Okay, why does my mind keep going back to that?'_

A squirming in her purse gave her the answer she sought.

_‘...lets me get inside you…’_

Vii.

The voice in her mind constantly reminding her of the essay, the voice that had tried to convince her to leave the school without Alya, the voice that had told her to protect Emelie rather than help Ladybug. Chloé's fingers curled around her phone, her nails scraping into its case. How dare that little insect mess with her mind like that? What was she trying to pull? Vii fidgeted a bit too much in Chloé's bag and the girl slapped it. Chloé was a queen, and that meant that Vii needed to learn her place.

About twenty minutes later, Mr. Haprèle dismissed the trio from detention early, claiming some emergency with Mylène. Chloé smiled at her fortune as she gathered her bag and dashed from the room before Marinette and Alya could even rise from their seats. She didn't have time to dawdle. She had to get to Notre Dame before Alya. If she arrived late, Alya might get suspicious. Just outside the classroom, Chloé came upon Sabrina sitting on the top steps, her eyes focused lazily on her phone.

“What are you still doing here?” Chloé demanded.

Sabrina jumped at her friend's voice. “Oh, Chloé!” She stood and brushed off her shorts. “I needed to talk to you. It's...it's about the essay...”

“Not you too,” Chloé groaned. When Sabrina raised a brow, Chloé waved her off. “Never mind. Listen, just email me some references later. I'm busy.”

Sabrina shuffled on her feet, unable to meet Chloé's eye. “No, Chloé, about that...”

“Sabrina, I don't have time to work on this stupid essay right now. Honestly? It'd be a lot better if you just did it for me. Some...personal stuff came up that I need to take care of.” Sabrina opened her mouth to argue, but Chloé was already making her way down the stairs. “Just explain to your grandparents you owe a friend a favor. I'm sure they'll understand.”

Chloé smiled to herself as she stepped onto the sidewalk in front of Francois-Dupont. That's how it's done. That's how a queen manages her domain. Now, if only Vii could get with the program.

“That was rude, you know,” came a tiny voice from just behind her head, likely nested in her ponytail.

Speak of the devil...

“You don't know my relationship with Sabrina,” Chloé whispered. “She has no problems helping me out. In fact, she'd have even fewer problems with it if I told her I'm a superhero now.”

“You remember what Ladybug said: no one can know your identity.”

“I know, I know. But once I hand Hawkmoth his own butt, I'll tell her and she'll realize this was all worth it.” Chloé smiled wider. “She'll get the satisfaction of knowing she's been helping a superhero this whole time.”

“But right now, all she sees is her supposed friend abusing her and–”

“Listen here, Vii!” Chloé said a bit too loud. A few people turned to look at her, but she simply glanced down at her phone and put a finger to her ear, pretending to fidget with a Bluetooth earpiece. “I know what you've been doing in my head.”

“I...” Vii began slowly, “haven't...been doing any–”

“Save it!” Chloé hissed. “I keep hearing this voice in my head trying to tell me what to do and I know you have something to do with it! You said I was chosen to be a hero, so whoever chose me trusts my judgment. Just let me be a hero and stop trying to be my conscience!”

Not another sound came from behind her head while she searched for a suitable place to transform. However, for all her searching, she failed to notice an old man in a Hawaiian shirt standing just outside the school, hunched over his cane with sorrow stretching his features.

“Master, again I must protest,” came a small voice from just over his shoulder. “She is abusing Vii, mistreating her friends, and prioritizing her own fame above the city’s safety. I believe it was unwise to entrust her with the Bee Miraculous.”

“You cannot plant a garden in the evening and hope to eat at dawn. Besides,” Fu glanced back over his shoulder, “you know the nature of the Bee demands such a wielder.”

“But how can anything grow in her hardened heart?”

Fu remained silent for but a moment, then lowered his head and sighed. “There are two forces at war within her, Wayzz: a desire for love and a desire for security and safety. She craves the love she is denied due to her mother's absence and her father's neglect.”

“I’d hardly say the mayor neglects her,” Wayzz argued.

“Though he believes he is doing right by his daughter, enabling her behavior and placating her with material possessions are no substitutions for a father’s love,” Fu countered. “But however much she may desire to be loved, opening herself to that love would leave her exposed and vulnerable. Losing her mother, the person she loved above all others, was the greatest pain she has ever felt, and so she has shut herself off, made herself cold and cruel. She would rather be alone than face that pain again. However, misery loves company, as they say, so she inflicts the pain she feels on others, just to have something in common with someone else.”

Fu heard a set of slow footsteps descend the steps in front of Francois-Dupont and turned his head to see Sabrina with her head low and tears threatening the corners of her eyes. Her face brightened when her father pulled his police cruiser up to the sidewalk, but the sorrow never left her eyes.

“In Miss Raincomprix,” Fu continued, “Chloé has found a submissive soul who accepts the pain and still stands by her side. Though Chloé does not know it, she has opened her heart to the girl, and left a hole in her armor. If Sabrina were to ever abandon Chloé, it would shatter her.”

“You are only reinforcing my point, Master.” Wayzz floated up to glance at the red-haired girl climbing in the car. “If Chloé is so fragile and unstable, then how can we expect her to--”

“You asked how anything could grow in her hardened heart,” Fu interrupted. “Look beneath us, at the cobblestones in the sidewalk. Hard, cold stone. Yet in some places--” he gestured towards a tuft of weeds with his cane “--life has found a way. It grows through the cracks, through the weaknesses in the stone, and so for anything to grow within Miss Bourgeois, she must be like the stones beneath us. For her to become the hero she is destined to be…” His eyes followed a streak of gold flying off to the west, then turned and strode back towards his shop.

“...she must break.”

(#)

Queen Bee sat hidden between the columns and gargoyles perched atop Notre Dame, awaiting Alya’s arrival. She blew a puff of air between her lips and groaned, rolling some more kinks out of her neck. She knew she could fly fast, but she didn’t think she had this much of a head start. Vii was proving a poor conversational partner, not saying a word since Chloé snapped at her before transforming. Something inside her told her to apologize, but it was likely just that obnoxious voice Vii had planted in her mind. Bee wasn’t at fault. She knew what she was doing and just needed the opportunity to prove that, not only to Ladybug and Vii, but to the whole city.

A beeping from her stinger interrupted her thoughts, and upon pressing the button, saw the caller as a red circle with five red spots in it. Queen Bee answered and hummed, “Hello Ladybug! Is there another Akuma somewhere? Need my aerial expertise?”

“No Akumas, Bee,” came Ladybug’s calm yet stern voice. “It’s actually about your interview with Alya…”

“Oh, called to congratulate me on getting my first interview so soon?”

“I didn’t call to congratulate you.” Queen Bee’s face sank. “There’s a reason Chat and I wanted to arrange the interview for you. We wanted to brief you beforehand. We need to make sure you don’t give away any secrets or answer any telling questions; Alya’s quite the journalist and she’s been hounding us for our secrets for months.”

“I know, secret identities, don’t let any weaknesses slip, typical superhero stuff.”

“There’s more to it than that, Bee. We need to--”

A blip of red hair on a bicycle steadily growing in the distance caught Queen Bee’s attention and she grinned. “Got to go, Ladybug. The Ladyblogger’s here.”

“Wait, Bee, we need--”

“Don’t worry so much, Ladybug,” Queen Bee interrupted, each of her words clipping short Ladybug’s protests. “You and Vii just need to trust me. I know what I’m doing.” Her thumb found the button on her stinger and severed their connection.

At almost twenty minutes past 5, Alya rolled up on her bike and glanced around. A small crowd had already formed before the towering face of Notre Dame, many of them with cameras trained on the skies. Bee smiled, knowing every one of them had seen the livestream from early that morning. Everyone was here for her. When Alya swung a leg off her bike and dug her phone from her bag, Queen Bee threw out her wings and gently glided over to her.

“Running late, are we?” Queen Bee asked once she was within earshot, floating above Alya with her arms crossed and a smug grin on her face.

Alya turned her eyes from her phone to the voice that came from above her. “Uh, y-yeah!” She stuttered with her phone already focused on the floating heroine. “Got stuck in detention for sneaking out of class to stream the attack this morning.”

“Detention? Why should you be punished for what you do?” Bee shrugged. “Who else will get such up close coverage of Akuma attacks? Most news crews are too afraid, or the news networks won't allow any--” she threw up air quotes “--’unnecessary damage’ to their equipment.”

Alya smiled even wider. “Thank you! Finally someone gets it!”

Queen Bee descended into a lightning storm of camera flashes and glanced about her. “Care to go someplace a little quieter? After all…” She extended her hand to Alya. “Isn’t this supposed to be an ‘exclusive’ interview?”

The only way Alya could have looked more excited that she was in that moment would be if Ladybug had asked her that exact question. When she accepted Queen Bee’s hand, the heroine lifted her from the ground and flew her up into the northern bell tower, leaving behind a disappointed crowd.

When Alya’s sneakers touched the worn wooden planks inside the belltower, Bee released her hand and said, “Not exactly the most glamorous place for an interview. But then again, any locale would appear dingy and grungy when compared to me.”

“It’s quiet and secluded; that’s all I care about,” Alya said as she fiddled with some of the settings on her phone. “So how do you want to do this? Record and edit, or livestream?”

“Darling, I know how to handle myself in front of a camera,” Queen Bee bragged. “I only _need_ one take.”

“Livestream it is!” She tapped another button and held up her phone. “Goooood Evening, Paris! Alya Cesaire coming to you live from the belltowers of Notre Dame with a Ladyblog exclusive! Hate to disappoint the die-hard Ladybug fans out there, but today we have an interview with a whole new breed of bug. Paris, say hello to Queen Bee!” Bee tilted her nose up and settled her hands on her hips.

“So, Queenie, tell us: when did you get your powers?”

“Would you believe yesterday? And I’ve already faced my first Akuma. Impressive, no?”

“Yeah it was! For those who missed the livestream this morning, first of all, shame on you, second, Queen Bee protected me and another civilian from an electrifying Akuma tearing up the 8th arrondissement.”

“Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to help Ladybug like I wanted, so she had to contend with the Akuma by herself.”

Alya opened her mouth to respond, but instead quirked up her brow. “Wait, wasn’t?...no...Chat was there. I know he was.”

“Of course he was,” Queen Bee scoffed with a dismissive wave. “Getting in the way, as usual. Next question.”

Alya’s mouth popped open and closed, like a fish out of water, but she refocused her mind and figured it was best to keep Bee talking about herself so she couldn’t insult her teammates. “Okay, um...w-what can you tell us about your powers?”

Queen Bee smiled wider. Now, this was her opportunity to show off. “I’m sure you caught most of it this morning. My electric stinger-” she gestured to the hilt on her hip “-my drones, and Vii tells me I’m the fastest among all of the Miraculous heroes.”

“ _All_ of the Miraculous heroes?” Alya shrieked, causing Bee to jump back a little. A great smile bloomed on the journalist’s face. “Th-there’s more? How many? A-are they all animals? What are their powers? Who’s Vii”

Queen Bee cleared her throat. “I-I...don’t know the answers most of those questions, but if you must know, Vii is my kwammmmm…” She blinked. “Mmmmm _mmmmm!”_ She grunted and groaned, bringing her hands to her mouth when her lips refused to part.

^You can’t let people know about me!^

_‘Oh, so this is_ your _doing!’_ Queen Bee screamed in her mind.

^This is exactly what Ladybug was talking about! You let my existence slip and now that girl’s curious!^

_‘Okay okay, fine, I won’t blab! Just give me my mouth back!’_

Queen Bee’s lips popped apart and she drew in a deep breath. Alya looked on in wonder and shock, unsure of what just happened. Bee gave an awkward grin and said, “Uh, it seems m-my powers prevent me from giving away too many secrets. S-sorry.”

“Sooo…” Alya purred with a fox-like grin, “if I were to ask you for Ladybug and Chat Noir’s identities…”

“I’d say ‘nice try’,” Bee smirked. “Besides, it’s not like we know each other’s identities anyway…”

“Wait,” Alya leaned forward, “you don’t know each other’s identities?”

“Unfortunately no, even though Ladybug and I would be the bestest of besties if she knew who I was.” Bee pouted and crossed her arms. “I think she’s just paranoid because of the number of times Chat’s been brainwashed, useless cat.”

“Uh,” Alya looked down to her phone, still streaming with several thousand viewers tuning in. Well, Bee said she wanted to do this live… “Would, uh, would you mind sharing what you have against Chat Noir?”

“Please, you’re at every fight and even you can’t see how much he gets in Ladybug’s way?” Bee rolled her eyes and strolled closer to an opening in the tower. She peered down and smiled at the explosion of camera flashes, twinkling like earthbound stars. “He’s a show off. He doesn’t take his duties as a hero seriously, he puns every chance he gets, and flirting with Ladybug just distracts her from her job. That’s clearly why I was given a Miraculous; Ladybug needs help and the alley cat’s not cutting it.”

“You know she’d disagree with you.”

“Of course she would, but only because she doesn’t know any better.”

Alya raised a brow. “And you think you can do better?”

Queen Bee whirled around and fixed Alya with a frightening glare. “Oh, I _know_ I can do better than that mangy feline. I just need a chance to prove it.”

Alya sat in stunned silence for a few seconds while Bee impatiently tapped her foot. That couldn’t be it. Usually the Alya had piles of questions, but this? This was a sorry excuse for a debut interview.  Her stinger beeped once again and only served to further ruin her mood. “Hold on, Miss Ladyblogger, I need to take this.” She pressed the button and when her antennae swung in front of her face, she smirked a little when Alya lifted her phone again and muttered, ‘so cool’ under her breath.

“Hey, Ladybug. Listen, I’m in the middle of--”

“Akuma, just west of the Louvre.”

Queen Bee’s face and mood immediately  brightened. “On my way!” Another button press and she turned back to Alya. “Duty calls. Rain check on the rest of the interview?” She threw out her wings, buzzed them to life, and flew towards the nearest window, oblivious to Alya yelling behind her about how she was supposed to get down from the tower.

(#)

The setting sun in her eyes, Queen Bee settled down on a rooftop just west of the museum barely a minute later. She glanced around, but only took in silence and calm. No screams, no sounds of destruction, no wicked laughter. She began to wonder just what kind of Akuma this could be when Ladybug stepped from behind a chimney with her arms crossed and eyes locked on Bee. Chat followed her close, his hands on his hips, but his eyes off to the side, focusing on nothing.

“So, where’s the Akuma?” Queen Bee asked, likely a little too giddy to be fighting a supervillain.

Ladybug turned her eyes to the roof beneath them and sighed. “There’s...no Akuma. I...I was watching the interview and I...lied to get you away from Alya.”

Shock spiked through Bee’s heart and her mouth dropped open. Her hero...the one person in Paris she knew, _knew_ , could do no wrong, had...lied to her?

“I’m sorry. But again, there’s a reason we wanted to talk about the interview first. We’re lucky Vii managed to stop you from mentioning what a kwami is, but everything else…”

“H-hey!” Queen Bee shouted defensively. “I didn’t give away any secrets! Yeah, I accidentally mentioned Vii’s name, but I didn’t--”

“You said we don’t know each other’s identities,” Chat finally spoke. “While it’s true…”

“What does it matter?” Bee scoffed. “What difference does it make, you stupid cat?”

Chat recoiled and Ladybug’s nails dug into her suit, her brow furrowing. She swallowed hard and said, “It matters because now Hawkmoth knows he can send an Akuma disguised as a civilian to one of us, claiming to be me or Chat or even you, and we won’t know the difference.” She lifted her eyes back up to Bee, and the striped heroine flinched at the level of anger within them. “Every secret we let slip, every detail about our powers gives Hawkmoth an advantage, and he already has the ultimate advantage in that we have no idea where he is! We’ve been playing defense for _months_ and you just --” She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lips, as though trying to hold back her words. She drew a breath in her nose and gently eased it out her mouth.

“We need to act more like a team,” Ladybug continued, her previous point dropped. “And that means listening to each other, respecting each other.” She looked back at her old partner, then forward to her new one, her look of anger gone, replaced by gentle intensity. “No more insulting each other.” Which Bee took to mean ‘no more insulting my _partner_.’ “The people can’t think there’s any friction between us. If people start doubting us, Hawkmoth has yet another advantage.” She held out her fist and managed a meek smile. “We’re equals in this, Bee. No one is better or worse than anyone else. Teammates, partners, not sidekicks.” Chat’s fist rose to join Ladybug’s and the pair looked expectantly at Queen Bee.

She sneered at the pair of gloved fists being held out to her. What did they mean ‘equals’? She was a Queen, and though Ladybug was a friggin _Empress_ in her eyes, there was no way Bee would put herself on the same level as the stray. But...she needed to smooth things over with Ladybug, or her superhero career would become far too brief. Best to just play along for now, let Ladybug see the light in her own time. Queen Bee turned away and lightly bumped her fist against the others.

“There, see?” Chat said with a grin. “We’re all friends here. Now…” He spread his arms wide. “ _Comb_ over her and give us a hug!”

A groan and a giggle echoed into the evening.

(#)

Queen Bee landed back in her room just a few minutes after convincing Ladybug she’d be more ‘civil’ around Chat. Her transformation fell away and Chloé dropped into one of her chairs while Vii spiraled into a bowl of pretzels the hotel staff had refilled earlier that day. Chloé flicked through her phone, noticing zero texts from Sabrina about her progress on the essay and one text from Daddy about his disappointment that she got detention. She groaned and dropped her phone on the floor, pain burning in her shoulders from all the flying.

“I wouldn't have to be your conscience if you had one of your own.”

Chloé’s eyes snapped open and she glared hard at her kwami. “What did you say to me?”

Vii floated upwards and glared right back. “I said you don’t have a conscience. You hate Chat Noir for literally no reason, you shove all of your responsibilities on others while soaking in the glory, you mistreat your _only_ friend--”

“I have plenty of friends!” Chloé snapped. “Everyone adores me!”

“--and I'm not entirely sure she wants anything to do with you anymore!”

“Sabrina loves me! We've been besties for years! And besides, if I was such a terrible person, like you claim, then why did this ‘Guardian'--” she mocked with air quotes “-- pick me to be a superhero?”

Vii crossed her arms. “You know, I'm beginning to wonder if Fu hasn't made a mistake this time. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe I should take the comb back to him. You're proving to be more of a pain than any of my other wielders.” She grumbled to herself, “Even Arista wasn't this bad and she...” Vii paused when she noticed Chloé holding out the comb, her hair down and an expectant look on her face.

“Well? Aren't you going to take it?” Vii froze. Her hesitation enticed Chloé, and a smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Go ahead. Take it.” She waited a few more seconds, but when Vii didn’t move, she said, “Except...you _can't_ , can you? If you could, you would have by now.” Vii turned away and Chloé cackled in victory. “It has to be me, doesn’t it? No one else can be the Bee! It’s destiny or fate or whatever, but it has to be me!”

She secured the comb back in her hair and stood, making her way to her closet to change into her pajamas, even though it was barely seven in the evening. “Tomorrow starts a new day for us, Vii. As soon as school is out, you’re giving me all the juicy details about my powers.”

The fluff around Vii’s neck stood on end and she zipped into Chloé’s face, pressing their foreheads together. “What did I tell you about bossing me arou--”

“Back off!” Chloé shouted, cutting Vii off. She smirked and added, “That’s an _order_.”

Vii trembled as she held her position, but soon backed away, her eyes filled with rage. Chloé strode forward, grinning wider when Vii moved out of her way. “You’re finally in your place, little bug.” Her hand moved towards a hanger bearing red silk coated in black spots, but she paused, and moved towards a pair of black silken pants and a yellow tank top. “It’s good to be the Queen.”

While Chloé changed and settled in her bed to flit around on her phone with some mindless time-waster of a game, ignoring every thought about the essay that crossed her mind, Vii looked down at her charge. Her chosen. Her... _master_. She sighed and whispered, “I wish they didn’t have to be this way.”


	5. Breakdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came a lot quicker than the last chapter. Thanks again to Ageisia for being an excellent beta!

Chloé’s alarm sounded from her phone and she blinked herself awake. A swipe of her finger silenced the tone and she slipped from between her silken sheets, ready to greet this glorious day. A day when Vii would finally give her all of her powers. A day when Queen Bee would be recognized as Paris’ (second) greatest heroine. And damn whatever Vii thought: Chloé was telling Sabrina her identity today. All of the girl’s hard work and adoration would finally pay off. Sabrina would get to be besties with a superhero.

She dressed in her finest, most expensive clothes, commanded Vii into her purse along with a sizable stash of pretzels, then rode the elevator to the ground floor. She stepped out and caught a glimpse of her father speaking to someone, who she recognized as a member of her father’s publicity staff.

Andre patted the man on the shoulder and said, “Ensure a considerable sum finds its way into the right hands, Emile.”

“But sir,” Emile started, his shoulders hunched. “This is exactly what D’Agrencourt’s legal team is investigating. Political corruption, bribery. Any excuse to invalidate the last election.”

“Oh, please. Armand’s lawyers are good,” the Mayor said, his smile not faltering once. “Mine are better. He’s hoping I’ll buckle before a show of force, but I won’t give him the satisfaction. Now,” the mayor poked his finger into Emile’s chest, his smile finally dropping away to reveal a grimace of displeasure, “do as I say, or I’ll replace you with someone who will.”

The man slowly nodded and made the appropriate notes on his tablet while Chloé made note of his name and face: there was no way she would go to someone like him when Queen Bee went public. He obviously didn’t know his place.

“Good morning, Daddy!” she called over. The mayor lifted his head and his face immediately brightened. “What was that all about?”

“Ah, Armand D’Argencourt is assembling a team of lawyers to dispute the results of the last election.” He shook his head. “The key is not to bow, not to show any weakness, even if it is perceived that I am in the wrong. People need a strong leader, a confident leader, and I will do whatever it takes to preserve that image.”

Chloé smiled up at her father and turned to walk out of the hotel and to the car awaiting to take her to school. Andre Bourgeois taught her everything she knew about strength and confidence. Never back down. Never break. Never show weakness. Keep people in their place, stomp down anyone who dares to challenge you. And the people loved him for it, just as Chloé’s classmates adored her.

‘ _ Then why is Marinette class rep and not you?’ _

Chloé groaned when the voice rose in her mind once more. ‘ _ Because they got suckered in by Maribrat’s empty promises. Where are Rose’s pink chair cushions? Where are Nino’s music privileges? Where is...whatever Juleka asked for? Marinette talks big, but she can’t follow through.’ _

Chloé smiled to herself as she eased into the car. ‘ _ Besides, even if some of them do like Marinette more,’  _ she reached behind her head and stroked the comb sitting in her ponytail, ‘ _ the plain and simple fact is that I’m a superhero and she’s not. This is the one thing I’ll  _ always _ have over her.’ _

Now on her way to school, she pulled out her phone and thumbed over to the Ladyblog. She just  _ needed  _ to know how many views her interview had. When she finally found the video and her eyes found the number, her jaw fell open.

Almost 1.2 million and climbing.

A scant fifteen hours later and  _ that _ was the viewer count? Almost double the count on the fight with Shockra and a blessed ten times higher than that first candid picture that  _ totally didn't exist anymore!  _ Chloé's face lit up as she watched the number grow and grow. So many people in Paris absolutely adored her. And the comments! Ooh, the comments!

'QUEN BE IS AMAZIGN!'

'how do her eyes do that? so pretty!'

'#hairgoals'

'im on mobile can someone add that gif of Meryl Streep clapping at the oscars thx'

'Other Miraculous? Can I be a dragonfly so I can fly with her?'

'She's so right! Chat only gets in the way! When will Ladybug see that?'

Overwhelmed with praise, Chloé giggled and vibrated in her seat. Sure, there were a few viewers still skeptical and rather salty minority who referenced the Volpina incident, but they didn’t matter, because soon, Queen Bee would have her grand moment when all of Paris would become ‘bee-lievers’. Normally she would have cringed at the pun, but even she had to admit that was clever. When her limo pulled up in front of the school, Chloé climbed out and flicked her phone away from the interview and to the list she’d made the previous night.

‘ _ Instead of working on the essay like you were supposed to…’ _

She ignored the thought and pushed it back down. It would likely take some time before whatever Vii did to her mind would go away. Now, back to the list!

**Hero Agenda**

  1. **Overshadow** **cat**
  2. **Win over Ladybug**
  3. **Follow-up interview with Alya**
  4. **Rearrange Hawkmoth’s face**
  5. **Reveal identity to city**
  6. **Ladybug swoons**
  7. **Chat jumps off building; doesn’t land on feet**
  8. **Daddy gives me the key to the city and my own holiday**
  9. **Rule like the Queen I am**



Short, sweet, to the point. A simple plan that assured everyone would love her. Vii fidgeted inside her purse and Chloé dropped her disinterested gaze to it. So long as everyone played their part and knew their place, that is. A gentle sway of her hip was just enough to jostle her purse and let its occupant know to settle down. Her eyes back on her phone and a wicked smile back on her lips, Chloé just knew today would be something special.

“See you after school today, Sabrina! Love you!”

“Bye, Dad! Love you too!”

Chloé’s eyes swept to her left to witness Officer Roger kneel down to hug his daughter and Sabrina peck a light kiss on his cheek. The smile she wore as she ran inside the school building made something pinch in Chloé’s heart. ‘ _ How long has it been since your father took you to school?’  _ the voice came again. ‘ _ How long since he hugged you, openly told you he loved you? When was the last time you said it to him?’ _

A growl rumbled in Chloé’s chest, easily dispelling the pinch. ‘ _ He loves me! In...in his own way. He buys me fashionable clothes, he made sure Adrikins and I attend the same school, and besides, he runs the freaking city! I can’t expect him to take time away from his busy schedule just for me!’ _

“Oh, good morning Miss Bourgeois!” Officer Roger called out.

Chloé sniffed and turned her nose up at the policeman. “Indeed it is a good morning.” She strode towards the steps leading into the building, paused, then turned back to face Officer Roger, about to climb back into his cruiser. “Hey, Sabrina’s supposed to help me with an essay I have due tomorrow. Tell her grandparents she’ll be coming over to my place this afternoon.”

Roger’s face deflated into a dumbfounded look. “Uh, you know she’s always welcome to visit you if you’ll have her, but what do her grandparents have to do with it?”

“Aren’t...aren’t they visiting this week?”

Roger shrugged. “They live down in Marseille, so they usually only visit on holidays. Haven’t seen them since--”

“Wait,” Chloé interrupted. “You mean...they  _ haven’t _ been in Paris this week?”

“Well, no, they…” His voice trailed off as he watched a ball of hot blonde fury take the stairs two at a time into the school building.

(#)

“All I’m wondering is,” Kim said to the class just as Chloé was walking in, “if I get akumatized again, will I still be Dark Cupid, or do I get a whole new set of powers?”

“Ugh, if I have a say, I vote new powers,” Nino grumbled.

Alya chuckled behind him. “Anything to keep from being the bubble-wielding anarchy clown again?” Nino groaned and slumped down in his seat.

“But it’s a legit question, right?” Kim asked. “Is there a way to test this?”

Max pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his eyes never leaving the book in front of him. “The only way to test such a hypothesis would be for someone to get akumatized again.”

“Well if that’s all it takes,” Alix chimed in, “then case solved. Ivan was Stoneheart twice.”

“But Ladybug didn’t purify the akuma the first time,” Alya pointed out. “Different butterfly could mean different villain.”

“In any case,” Max said, “I don’t recommend playing with someone’s emotions and unleashing a potentially dangerous threat on the city just for the sake of curiosity.” He paused. “Though if we were, we would have to select our subject very carefully. Non-lethal, so that disqualifies myself and Alix, no brainwashing or mind control which disqualifies Rose, Mr. D’Argencourt, and Kim.”

“Ooh, what about Juleka?” Rose hopped up in her seat. “All she did was give people pretty makeovers!”

“I’d, uh, rather not,” Juleka mumbled, fiddling with her mirrored bracelet.

“Yeah!” Adrien agreed. “High heels are their own form of torture!”

“What about Nathanaël?” Chloé suggested as she slid into her seat. “I mean, how dangerous could stalking Marinette be?” The artist in question, who had been sketching out something, shot up in his seat, clearly offended and angry. “Or maybe Sabrina.” The girl beside her raised a brow at this. “Invisibility is pretty harmless. Besides, I’m sure she’s going to need to disappear for a while.”

At that, Sabrina leaned towards Chloé and angled her head. “What do you mean by that Chloé?”

“I mean you’ll need to be invisible so I don’t  _ find you! _ ” Sabrina recoiled when Chloé jumped up and turned a furious glare at her seat mate. “You lied to me! You said you couldn’t help me with the essay because your grandparents were visiting, but your dad just told me they’re nowhere  _ near _ Paris!”

“Ch-Ch-Chloé!” Sabrina cowered down in her seat, her hands raised by her face. “Th-that’s what I was trying to tell you yesterday! Miss Bustier made me promise not to help you! I-I thought if I told you my grand-grand parents were visiting--”

“No, you weren’t thinking at all! How dare you lie to me? Your friend? Your  _ only _ friend, I should remind you!” Chloé felt an unfamiliar and unwanted shaking rise in her voice and she cleared her throat to disguise it. “Now, after class, you and I are going back to my room and--”

“She’s not your slave, Chloé!” came a familiar, nausea-inducing, challenging voice from behind her. Chloé turned and saw Marinette in the doorway, late as usual. “You claim to be her friend, but all you do is abuse her!”

“Butt out of this, Marinette.” She turned back to Sabrina, still cowering in her seat. “This is between me and the little liar.”

“I didn’t want to lie to you Chloé!” Sabrina attempted to explain.

“Then why did you? If you’d told me Miss Bustier made you promise not to help me, I would have understood.” Chloé planted her hands on her hips. “You still would have helped me, but it would have been better than lying to me! Betraying my trust!”

“Is doing your own homework for once that big of a deal to you?” Marinette demanded.

Chloé’s gut burned and she whirled around again. “I said butt out!”

“Chloé…” Sabrina whimpered.

“Oh, stop your sniveling! I’m sick of hearing it!” Chloé looked down at Sabrina and felt that pinch in her heart again.

‘ _ Your best friend, cowering before you, before your anger. Is this how a hero would treat her friends?’ _

As much as Chloé hated that little voice Vii had planted in her mind, it was right. She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Look, I’m not without a heart, so just help me put this stupid essay together by tomorrow and all will be forgiven. I’ll even buy you that cute dress you’ve been eyeing at that new boutique.”

“...no…”

Chloé’s eyes blazed as she directed her gaze back at her friend, now standing, her eyes still downcast but a heated determination slowly growing within them.

“What did you say?”

Sabrina swallowed hard and whispered, “I said ‘no’.” She lifted her head and met Chloé’s toxic stare, the fire in her eyes growing. “Miss Bustier made me promise not to help you, and I don't appreciate you trying to...to bribe me. I'm not helping you this ti--”

The sharp crack of skin on skin stilled all movement in the room. Sabrina stood with her head snapped to the right, a redness blooming on her left cheek and tears welling in her widened eyes. Chloé’s palm stung, but it was a small price to pay to remind Sabrina who was in charge in their friendship.

“Allow me to rephrase,” Chloé growled, ignorant to how every eye in the room now regarded her with mixtures of disgust and rage. “You  _ will _ help me with the essay and that is fina--” A hand with almost too strong of a grip clamped down on her wrist, and yanked her about to face a pair of furious bluebell eyes.

“That’s going too far, Chloé!” Marinette growled.

Chloé tried to pull her hand free from the trash-girl’s grip, but found she couldn’t. Since when was Marinette this strong? “H-how many times do I have to tell you? Stay out of my--”

“No, she’s right, Chloé!” Alya stepped out from her desk and stood next to her friend. “You may not have the healthiest relationship with Sabrina, but you’ve never been physical with her!”

“Hey, she brought it on herself, Césaire! Besides, how--” she tugged against Marinette’s grip “--I treat--” another tug “--my...friends!” She finally freed herself, or perhaps Marinette just let go, and shook her hand, a red mark encircling her arm. “Is none of your business!”

“Friends?” Alya glanced around the room, darkened faces all directed at Chloé. “You make it sound like you have more than one.”

“Of course I do!” Chloé insisted. “Everyone adores me!”

“Alright then, show of hands.” Alya crossed her arms and smirked. “Who here actually likes Chloé?”

Chloé’s eyes scanned the room and she saw everyone either averting their gaze or outright glaring at her. Not a single hand rose. She turned and faced Sabrina, her head and hand down, tears dripping on the desk. Chloé sniffed, trying to ignore the tearing pain in her heart. So what if Sabrina couldn’t see just how reasonable she was being? It wasn’t like she needed the girl.

“Okay, so all you’ve proven is that Little Miss Class Rep has turned everyone against me.” Chloé smiled and shoved between Alya and Chloé. “So long as Adrikins is still on my side I…” She stopped when she saw Adrien’s eyes boring holes into his desk, his hands clenched into fists on it.

“Adriki--”

“Stop, Chloé.” He spoke with so little force in his voice, but his words were far more effective at silencing her than Marinette and Alya’s shouting. “I’ve...I’ve tried to be patient with you for a long time. I’ve tried to believe that you’re still my best friend, that you’re still the girl I grew up with.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “But all you do is hurt people, and I can’t understand why. I can’t understand what happened to you.” He sighed and lifted his eyes to her, eyes full of anger, frustration, and hurt. “I’m sorry, Chloé. Maybe this is partly my fault for not calling you out on it, but I can’t be friends with someone who mistreats people like you do.”

Chloé’s breathing had gotten progressively more labored since Adrien silenced her. Everything was falling apart. First Sabrina lies to her, then the entire class leaves her high and dry for no reason, and now Adrien is talking like they aren’t friends anymore? No, this was supposed to be her day! This was supposed to be Queen Bee’s day! Today was supposed to be perfect!

“W-w-well that’s fine then! I don’t need any of you anyway!” Chloé grabbed her purse and school bag and stalked out the door, trying to forget the tears in Sabrina’s eyes and the look of hurt on Adrien’s face.

‘ _ How dare they?’  _ she fumed, the click of her heels echoing through the empty courtyard. ‘ _ How  _ dare  _ they? They all turn their backs on me? Marinette must have them all brainwashed! And Adrikins! She got to him too? That’s crossing the line! Maybe...maybe Queen Bee should visit her tonight and...no. Ladybug would be furious if I got caught hurting a civilian, even one as worthless as Maritrash. Ohh, I’m just so mad! I need something to punch. Something to hurt. I need an Akuma. I need--’ _

Something bumped into her and she felt something cold and wet bleed through her shirt. Her eyes cut downward to an ugly streak of brown now staining the pristine white. Her rage bubbled even higher and she lifted her eyes to see another student on the ground. He held a squashed eclair in his hand, more of the chocolate filling smeared across a shirt two sizes too large for his thin and frail form, and his breath quickened when he realized exactly who he’d run into. Chloé was about to scream at him for ruining her favorite shirt when she saw a box next to him adorned with the logo for the Dupain-Cheng Bakery.

‘ _ Oh, that’s just what I needed right now! To be reminded of Marinette!’ _

But seeing the box formed a wicked plan in her mind. She raised her foot and brought it crashing down on the box, not caring when more chocolate and cream oozed out over her shoe. The boy looked down at his crushed snacks then up at Chloé, his eyes watering and his lip trembling.

“That...that was my breakfast.”

Chloé turned up her nose in disgust. “Eclairs for breakfast?  _ So _ unhealthy.”

“Th-the Dupain-Chengs usually give me some leftovers from their morning rush. Sometimes...sometimes it’s all I get to eat during the day…”

“Well next time get them to give you something healthier than these logs of empty calories.” She strode around him and out the school doors. “Really, you should be thanking me.”

Yes, that’s what she needed to cook up. Start with one emotionally vulnerable peasant, sprinkle in a dash of tough love, add one evil butterfly, and you have yourself a recipe for one punching bag.

Best plan ever.

(#)

Worst plan ever.

“Feel my hunger, my children!” the Akuma shrieked, his tongue running over his sharp steel teeth. “Together we will devour this city, and I'll never go hungry again!”

Gluttoneer ( _ oh my god where does Hawkmoth get these  _ names?) wore a hideous yellow bodysuit and had a set of steel jaws coating most of his face. He dashed through the streets blasting everyone in sight with the clearly possessed pastry box, adding to the starving horde while also taking a bite out of everything he could find: cars, trees, rocks, houses. Every restaurant in the arrondissement had locked their doors, covered every window. Every bakery, every coffee shop, ever pizza parlor…

Queen Bee’s stomach clenched again and she nearly doubled over in pain. In her state, even  _ pizza _ was starting to sound appetizing. She’d been blasted early on in the fight, jumping in even when Ladybug told her to stay back until they could figure out the Akuma’s powers. But Queen Bee wanted to hurt something. She wanted to take out all of her anger and frustration on this pathetic loser who would be fixed right up after the fight. She groaned and attempted to focus on something,  _ anything _ other than food. She made another attempt at flying, but her hunger combined with fatigue from the battle that started nearly an hour ago made it impossible to get off the ground. Ladybug landed beside her a second later, one arm wrapped around her middle.

“We need to stop him before he eats half the city!” she shouted.

“We need to stop him before  _ I _ eat half the city!”

Ladybug turned on her, her eyes flaring. “You know, you wouldn’t be like this if you’d just listened!”

“I told you, I can handle a few--” she grunted and clutched her stomach again “--a few hunger pangs! I needed some stress relief so--”

“So you thought it would be a good idea to take out your anger on an Akuma?” Ladybug grabbed Queen Bee by the shoulder and squeezed a little harder than she likely intended. “There’s still a person in there! We can’t be too violent with them!”

“What does it matter what I do to him? Your magic fixes everything in the end anyway!”

Queen Bee could feel Ladybug’s hand tremble through her suit. The heroine’s eyes went dark, brow furrowed in an uncharacteristic rage. “How... _ dare…!” _

Before Ladybug could utter another word, Chat Noir dropped between the women and pulled them apart. “Hey! I know the hunger is making you two angry, but we need to fight the Akuma, not each other!”

Ladybug cut her eyes to her partner the back to Queen Bee. She sighed and groaned against another twist of her gut. “You...you’re right. We need to focus on the city.” She turned back to Chat. “How are you so level headed? You got blasted right after I did.”

He grinned and winced, likely from his own hunger. “That’s my secret, my Lady. I’m always hangry.”

She chuckled lightly. “I...I understood that reference.”

“If all you two are going to do is flirt with each other,” Queen Bee grumbled, “then I'll handle this myself!” She mustered all the strength we could and forced her wings to lift her off the ground. She rushed towards Glutoneer with her stinger raised, leaving Ladybug’s cries of protest behind her, ready to unleash a flurry of blows against the villain.

Unfortunately, another clench of her stomach forced a groan up her throat, alerting Glutoneer to her approach. He whirled around, opened his jaws, and clamped them down on Queen Bee’s stinger. Before she could gawk down at her stinger-- _ half _ of her stinger---, he backhanded her into a storefront.

Queen Bee could only remember what followed in a series of blurred flashes. She remembered Ladybug forcing her to sit on a bench in the park while she and Chat went after Glutoneer. She remembered arguing, remembered shoving Ladybug and insisting she could still fight. She remembered Ladybug’s forlorn look before she swung off and left Queen Bee behind, still screaming. She remembered fighting off the anger, the tears, the urge to jump through one of the windows of the Dupain-Cheng bakery and stuff her face with everything she could get her hands on.

She remembered the red storm of ladybugs that swept away all of the damage and her hunger. She remembered taking to the skies, no longer weighed down by an empty stomach. She remembered seeking out her partners and finding them on a far off rooftop. She remembered thinking of exactly what she would say to Ladybug about how she deserved to be treated like a hero instead of a child. She remembered landing on the rooftop with a chimney between her and them. And when she got closer…

She remembered their words.

“Ugh, I know she’s new at this,” Ladybug complained stomping around the rooftop with her fists clenched, “but Queen Bee can be so...so…”

“It’s like you said, my Lady,” Chat said, planting a hand on her shoulder to still her, “she’s new. It’s gonna to take time for her to settle into her place on the team.”

“But how hard is it to follow orders?” Queen Bee knew she should step out and say something, but her curiosity held her back, kept her hidden. “All she needed to do was stay back like I said! And did you hear what she said about the Akuma? ‘Stress relief’? It’s like she has no regard for anyone but herself!”

“She probably just had a bad day and needs us to be patient with her.”

“A bad day doesn’t excuse going out of her way to hurt people! I mean, she’s not near as bad as Chloé but…”

Queen Bee's world froze. Her breath caught in her throat, her body stilled, but her mind continued to whirl.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

_ 'I don't appreciate you trying to...to bribe me.' _

Today was supposed to be perfect.

_ 'That’s going too far, Chloé!' _

Everyone was supposed to love her.

_ 'Who here actually likes Chloé?' _

Everyone  _ did _ love her.

_ 'I can’t be friends with someone who mistreats people like you do.' _

Everyone loved her...

_ 'You know, you wouldn’t be like this if you’d just listened!' _

Ladybug...loved her...

_ 'She's not near as bad as Chloé...' _

...right?

_...you hear now what she truly thinks of you?... _

Queen Bee trembled when a new voice entered her mind.

_...your hero's not as heroic as you thought, is she?... _

It wasn't the voice Vii planted in her mind. It was different...

_...she doesn't deserve to be a hero, not like you, my Queen... _

...familiar...

_...take her Miraculous from her and bring it to me... _

Rage boiled up from her heart. Her face contorted in a wicked snarl. Her body lifted from the ground and shot right at Ladybug. The heroine saw Queen Bee coming, but could do nothing as the black and gold bullet plowed into her and didn't stop until her back met a chimney several buildings over. She slumped to the ground, coughed, the wind gone from her lungs, and lifted her head, gasping when she saw Queen Bee standing over her, her eyes filled with fury and outlined by a glowing purple butterfly.

“Is that what you really think of me, Ladybug?” Queen Bee spat. When the spotted heroine reached for her yoyo, Queen Bee thrust her stinger, coated in a purple miasma, just under the girl's chin. “ _ Is that what you really think? _ I can't believe I ever admired you!” She shook her head, flinging tears to the roof beneath them. “I worshiped you,  _ loved _ you!” She wrapped her fingers around Ladybug's throat and jerked her to her feet, her stinger leveled between those eerily familiar bluebell eyes. “You're the reason I wanted to be a hero! I-”

“Ladybug!” Chat Noir called from behind Queen Bee as he vaulted across roof after roof.

Queen Bee called upon her drones without turning. When they materialized, she shrieked, “Tear Chat Noir apart!”

“No!” Ladybug had barely cried when Queen Bee slammed her head back into the bricks.

“I thought you of all people would love me!” she sobbed, unable to keep her voice even any longer. “Because you're Ladybug! You love everyone! You're supposed to be kind! Gentle! Passionate! You're brave, brilliant, creative, selfless!” She could just barely hear Vii crying out in her mind, but ignored her, her grip tightening around Ladybug's throat. “You're strong, you're confident, and that's why I admired you! Because y-you're...”

Queen Bee's voice trailed off, her rage dying and her eyes softening as she realized just what she was about to say.

“You're...”

She tried to hold her next words on the tip of her tongue, because to speak them would be to give voice to a truth she had realized long ago, but dared not acknowledge. However, in her emotionally compromised state, the truth fought its way out.

“You're...everything I'm not.”

Her vision blurred as more tears flooded her eyes. Her grip loosened, allowing her stinger to clatter to the roof and Ladybug to work her way free. Chat, having evaded the drones until they dissipated, called his Cataclysm on the possessed weapon and released the butterfly within. Queen Bee dropped to her knees, barely registering Hawkmoth screaming in her mind before Ladybug severed their link.

“Queen Bee?”

The striped girl lifted her eyes to find Ladybug looking down on her, not with anger, but with concern. She reached out, but Queen Bee flinched away and jumped to her feet, her wings buzzing harder and faster than they ever had. Between her tears and the speed with which she flew over the city, she had no idea where she was going until her boots dropped onto the balcony outside her room and her transformation peeled away. Chloé threw open the doors, staggered into her room without bothering to close them, and once more dropped to her knees, her arms folded over her middle.

She tried. She tried to calm her mind, to slow her tears. She tried to compose herself. She tried to remember her father's words: Never back down. Never break. Never show weakness. She was Chloé Bourgeois. Chloé  _ freaking _ Bourgeois. She doesn't have emotional breakdowns. She is strong. She is confident. She swallowed hard and muttered those words, repeated them like a mantra.

“I am strong. I am c-confident. I am--”

“Honey...”

“G-go away, Vii.” Chloé didn't lift her head to acknowledge the kwami, and she continued her chant.

Though the magic of the Miraculous compelled her to obey, Vii fought through it and said, “This isn't what your mother meant when she--”

Chloé's eyes snapped open and she turned her tear-streaked eyes up at the floating spirit. “Shut up! What do you know of my mother? You don't know  _ anything _ !”

Vii sighed and floated down closer to her chosen. “I've been a part of your mind for the past few days. I saw the memory of your mother's death.”

“Shut up.” Chloé squeezed her eyes shut.

“I know you miss her.”

“Shut  _ up. _ ” Her jaw clenched against another wave of tears.

“I know you don't want to be alone and--”

“I said--” Chloé reached behind her head, wrenched the comb from her hair, and threw it into her open closet “-- _ shut up! _ ”

She waited for another comment, another retort, but none came. She slowly lifted her head and glanced about through the thin curtain of her loose hair. Vii was gone. She was… Chloe shut her eyes shut again and hooked her fingers into her scalp. She refused to say it, to admit it. She ground her teeth together, trying to bite back the pain, the humiliation. Faces flashed through her mind: Sabrina, Adrien, her classmates, Vii…

...her mother.

...she was alone.

And it was all her fault.

She couldn't hold it in any longer. She wept until her eyes burned. She screamed until her throat ran raw. She let every bit of fear and pain and denial pour out of her because inside there was just no more room. She continued to weep even when her butler found her a half hour later. He couldn't get an explanation out of her as to how she had gotten home from school, or why she was crying in her room, but tucked her into her bed regardless. And there she lay for the next few hours, wetting her pillow with her tears, until her father could take leave of his duties at city hall and come home to his daughter.

The room was dark and quiet when he entered, the silence only broken by Chloé's ragged breaths. He wandered over to her bed and sat next to her, his hand finding her head poking out of the blankets and gently stroking it.

“Chloé? What's wrong, dearest? What happened?”

She sniffed and turned her head, not quite looking at him, but just enough for him to see the redness in her eyes. “W-why did she lie to me?”

“Who? Who lied to you?”

“Sh-she said...if I was strong and confident, that I'd ha-have friends.” She closed her eyes and curled in on herself under the sheets. “B-but everyone h-hates me! And I'm all alone and I don't know why she lied to me.”

The mayor leaned over. “Who?”

It took a few seconds, but Chloé finally sat up and looked at him. In that moment, he saw, not a fifteen-year-old young woman, but a scared eight-year-old girl who had just witnessed her mother's death.

“Mommy. Why, daddy? Why did mommy lie to me?”

(#)

Fu sat in meditation, preparing himself for the next step in his plan to combat Hawkmoth. Wayzz sat beside him, next to a plate of sliced carrots, calmly munching until his head perked up. His antenna bobbed, seeking out particular energies and failing to find them.

“Vii has gone dormant.” He looked up to Fu. “Chloé has rejected her.”

The old master opened his eyes and sighed. “I anticipated as much, but did not foresee it happening so soon.” He pulled his cane to him and pushed himself to his feet. “I had hoped that the Bee and Moth would balance each other, but it seems the Moth is far too corrupt to be an effective balancing force.”

“What now, Master?”

Fu stood silent for a minute before flashing Wayzz a sad smile. “It is time for our paths to diverge.”

Wayzz lifted from his plate to float before Fu's face. “No, Master. There...must be another way.”

“It will take time for Miss Bourgeois to find the hero within herself. Until that happens, Ladybug and Chat Noir still need help.”

“Then send Keela! She can--”

“Be of great help, I agree.” Fu opened the chest hidden within his phonograph and took out the necklace. “But her wielder will need a partner to balance her. With Pann lost to us, that means I must pass you on to a new Master.” He slid open a drawer and removed a pair of identical black boxes, lowering the necklace into one of them before turning back to Wayzz. “This is not an ending, old friend. It is a new beginning for you. For us both.”

Wayzz pressed his forehead against his Master's...his former Master. “I have had far too many of both.”

Old and tired fingers reached down to the jade charm. “Goodbye Wayzz.”

The turtle kwami pulled away and matched the sad smile on his former wielder. “Goodbye...Fu.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the first arc of the story comes to an end. Friggin finally... Next up, Ladybug and Chat get two more teammates, one more welcome than the other.


	6. Slow and Steady

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my freaking god I'm back at it. It feels good to get back to this after so long. Also, just to note, the outline for this tale was written well over a year ago, LONG before it was confirmed that [SPOILERS] Otis is Alya's father and she has two younger twin sisters. Again, as stated in the tags, this fic will NOT be season 2 compliant.

Nino strolled through the Parisian afternoon, Daft Punk blaring through his headphones, the warm August air wafting around him. On his way to Alya's house to study, he had his backpack slung over his shoulder, loaded with school books, a few albums Alya wanted to borrow, and a copy of Interstella 5555 he'd borrowed from Adrien. Nino was disappointed he hadn't known his favorite artists had a movie based on their music, but he was still excited to share it with Alya.

He blushed and smiled as his mind turned to Alya. Her fire, her passion, her drive, all so intoxicating, inspiring. Who knew all it took to get a sort-of-semi-unofficial-girlfriend was to have a superhero lock you in a gorilla cage for a few hours? Maybe Marinette and Adrien should try 'couple’s cage therapy' sometime. He bobbed his head to the beat and managed to dance around every pedestrian on the sidewalk between his house and his destinationl. Well, _almost_ every pedestrian. In the middle of singing, he didn't notice the short Asian man with a box full of old books in his arms.

“ _One more time/Music's got me feeling so free/We're gonna celebrate/Celebrate and dance sowoOOOOAHHHH!”_

Both men went to the sidewalk, books scattered, and Nino's backpack, the zipper already on its last legs, split open spilling his homework and CDs everywhere. ' _Note to self: ask for a new backpack for Christmas.'_ Nino scrambled to clean the mess, blurting apologies interspersed with swears and thankful none of his CDs were scratched. Satisfied his homework was back in his torn bag, he turned to the old man, whose lips were moving, but with his headphones still on, Nino couldn't hear a word of it.

He pushed the headphones down on his neck. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I said there's no reason to apologize. I was moving too slow for an energetic young man such as yourself.”

Nino waved his hands. “No, no dude! _I_ was the one not paying attention. Here, let me help.”

He snatched up some books and stacked them as best he could back in the old cardboard box. Some paperback Louis L'Amour westerns, _Candide_ by Voltaire, a worn out copy of _Through the Looking Glass_ , and a much older book knocked open to...a picture of _Volpina_? Nino plunked the books in his hands back into the box, his eyes never leaving the fox woman. He lifted the book and ran his darkening eyes over the ninja-esque figure and the strange writing. The image wasn't exactly like Volpina, but the tail-like sash, the ears, and the flute were similar enough.

“Why...do you have a book about Volpina?” he asked through gritted teeth. If one were asked to describe Nino, the words loyal, friendly, and chill might come up, but you would never hear angry or vengeful, and he wasn't. Unless it involved a particular fox-themed villain and his best friend. Yeah, Adrien had been caught up in Akuma attacks before. Turned into a brainwashed knight, his car blown up by an invisible bazooka, cocooned in purple slime, but Volpina had _targeted_ him. Made it personal.

The old man took one look at the book, grimaced, and pulled it from Nino's hands. “It's not just about Volpina. It contains passages on all of the Miraculous heroes.”

“Hero?” Nino stared at the old man as though he'd told him 'Hawkmoth just needs a friend'. “She threatened my best bud's life!”

“That was an Akuma forged from the pain in a lonely girl's heart.” The old man spoke in hushed yet intense tones. “The real fox is a hero, I assure you.” Nino grumbled under his breath, and the old man sighed. “You must truly care about your friend.”

Nino face softened. “I do! I'm like his _only_ friend. A-and he's been through so much crap, and not just 'cause of Hawkmoth.” He removed his hat and scratched through his bristly hair. “His mom disappeared four years ago, his dad works him to the bone and lets him have, like, _no_ fun even when he has down time, and he's head-over-heels for a superhero he has zero chance with when there's this girl in our class, literally _right behind him_ , who...” He trailed off and blinked. “Why am I telling you all this?”

The old man smiled and stashed the mysterious book in the box. “Perhaps you simply needed to vent to a welcoming ear.” Nino nodded and shrugged, his eyes averted. “Help me carry these books into my shop and I'll continue listening.”

Nino weighed his options. Alya wasn't expecting him for another half hour, and he owed this old man after knocking him over. He nodded again, stacked his backpack on top of the box and hefted it up into his arms. “ _Woah!_ This is heavier than it looks. You must have some real guns, old ma...uh, s-sir.”

If he minded being called 'old man', he didn't let it show. “More like muskets at my age,” he joked. “Come, this way.”

It was only a few more meters down the sidewalk before the old man pulled a key ring from his pocket and unlocked the door beneath a sign reading _Fu Masseuse._ A short hallway lead to three doors, two on the left, one on the right, the latter of which the old man opened and gestured for Nino to enter. Inside was a sparsely decorated room with bamboo flooring and several scrolls covered with what Nino could only assume was Chinese dotting the walls. A thin mattress sat in the center of the floor beside a round table covered in candles and an incense burner. A small bookshelf sat in the far right corner close to a dresser with an old phonograph on top. Nino dropped the box next to this bookshelf, and leaned in to get a closer look at the antique phonograph. Definite Asian influence in the design. Intricate etching in the bell, a pair of dragons on the front, both with ruby eyes, and a flower-patterned inlay around the octagonal base.

“Got anything good on vinyl?”

The old man hobbled up to the young man, a cane now in his hand. “Pavarotti, Maria Callas, an autographed copy of _Thriller_ somewhere, but don't bother. That old thing hasn't worked in over a hundred years.”

“Probably make bank at auction. The copy of _Thriller_ , too.”

“Sentimental value; it belonged to my mentor.” The old man turned his eyes up to Nino. “And I'm not parting with Michael for anything.” He turned back to the thin mattress pad, sat cross-legged upon it, and motioned for Nino to join him. Nino felt like he should kick off his shoes, which he did before sitting down.

“No need for such formalities, Nino. You're a guest here.”

“Sorry, sir, it just felt like I should...” Nino paused and slanted his eyes at his companion. “I...never gave you my name.”

The old man's eyebrows raised, then he sighed, realizing his error. “I must confess something to you. Our meeting this afternoon was no accident. I've had my eyes on you for some time, and the reason as to why is actually related to the book you saw.” Nino's eyes widened. “Ladybug delivered that book to me about two weeks ago, just after she and Chat Noir defeated Volpina. I don't know where she found it, but that tome, the Qíjī Shū it's called, has been lost for centuries. With its reappearance, and Hawkmoth somehow knowing far more about the fox hero than he should, I can only assume it was in his possession.”

“A book full of superhero secrets in the hands of a supervillain? That's heavy.” Nino adjusted his glasses. “But why did LB give the book to you?”

He sat straighter and said, “I am Master Fu, the Great Guardian of the Miraculous. I protect the jewels when they are inactive and choose wielders when fate demands it. She believed it best that I have the book so I may translate the passages.” He slumped again and shook his head. “We don't know if Hawkmoth managed to translate any of the pages, discovered secrets of his own powers, but we must be prepared for the worst, and that is why I have deemed it necessary to pass on the few jewels that remain in my possession.”

Nino blinked. “Uh, what does this have to do with me?”

A grin spread across Master Fu's face. “Is it not obvious, Nino? I wish to pass one of the Miraculous to you.” The DJ's mouth fell agape, but Fu continued before Nino could speak. “This conversation wasn't my original intention, but it seems fate has decided a different course for us. How exciting.”

“N-no way, dude,” Nino stammered. He scrambled to his feet and paced the room. “No. Friggin. Way. There's no way I can be a superhero! I've got too much on my plate as it is! School and friends, DJ gigs, a girlfriend...” He stopped and wrenched his hands together, a blush creeping up on his face. “Well, she's _sorta_ my girlfriend. I-it's nothing official, yet. I mean, it’s official- _ish,_ but...” His eyes flicked back to the smiling Guardian. “Again! Why am I telling you this?”

“You are open and honest,” Master Fu shrugged, “if not a little disorganized and impulsive, which is why I believe the stability and focus of the turtle would suit you well.”

Nino raised an eyebrow at this. “Turtle?”

“Yes, a symbol of protection and wisdom. A passive, defensive hero.” Master Fu struggled to his feet, and Nino scrambled to help him up. Master Fu limped over to Nino's backpack and from it, withdrew a hexagonal black box, the lid etched with red designs similar to those on the phonograph. He smiled and held the box out to Nino. “Your moral compass and desire to protect your friends will make you an excellent hero, despite what you may think.”

Nino looked from the box to Master Fu, then took a breath. “And if I say no?”

“Then we shake hands, part ways, and I choose someone else.” This response surprised Nino, a reaction the Guardian didn't miss. “Fate is far less rigid than people believe. Most perceive fate as railroad tracks, linear and uncompromising, when it is more like a curving mountain path, full of detours and shortcuts that all lead to the same destination.”

Nino glanced down at the box as though to may bite him, apprehension evident in his eyes. Fu sighed and withdrew the box. “The choice is ultimately yours, Nino, but if you decide to embrace the hero you could become, I will make you this promise: should you ever change your mind, you may return the Miraculous to me, and I will accept it without question.”

(#)

Nino couldn't focus while studying with Alya. He couldn't focus while playing his new demo for her. He couldn't focus while some jerk brainwashed a band of blue-skinned aliens to the tune of _Harder Better Faster Stronger._ Every time he thought he could enjoy her company, the music, or the movie, his mind drifted to the black box in his pocket. Why had he accepted it? Was it the thought of being a hero? Was it the knowledge that he had an easy way out?

No. It was a conversation he'd had with Adrien last week.

“ _Seriously, dude, do you know who she is?”_

“ _For the last time, Nino, I don't, and even if I did, what would you do?”_

“ _Some crazy fox chick attacks you in your own bedroom and you want me to do nothing?”_

“ _Just drop it, buddy. Akumas can't be held responsible for their actions, and attacking L...an innocent girl wouldn't do any good. There's nothing you can do.”_

“You okay, Nin?” Alya asked from her bed. He sat on the floor, his back to her mattress, to her, his right hand scribbling notes, his left rubbing the hexagonal bulge in his jeans. At Alya's question, he tilted his head back and met her upside-down gaze.

“Yeah, just...a lot on my mind.”

“Still hung up on the Volpina thing?”

Nino huffed. “Is it that obvious?”

“I know how you feel, babe.” She rolled over so her head rested beside his. “When Evillustrator,” she paused and her face fell, “still a stupid name by the way, got all stalky, creepy with Marinette, I wanted to get my murder on, just like you do with Volpina. But we have to realize the Akumas are just victims of a middle-aged loser obsessed with magic jewelry.” Nino snorted back a laugh. “We can't hold their actions against them. How would you feel if every adult in Paris demanded your head on a pike?”

“About the same as you if Chloé realized you were the one who revealed her Ladybug cosplay fetish to the city.”

The pair giggled together. Though Alya made it Ladyblog policy to keep Akuma identities as confidential as possible, the two of them were fully aware of each other's 'dark side' and openly mocked them as an inside joke. Tonight, however, Nino's laughter faded quicker than Alya's, and this did not escape her notice.

“Nin, look, I understand Akuma attacks are different when it’s _your_ friends in the crossfire, but since we're not superheroes, as _awesome_ as that would be, we just have to trust Ladybug, Chat Noir, and Queen Bee to do their jobs.” He didn't seem satisfied by her words, and Alya sighed. “If you really want to help out, you can put your amateur director skills to work and get me footage for the blog.”

Nino nodded and smiled, but more to placate her, not because he accepted her advice. She turned over and planted a quick peck on his forehead before they moved back to studying, but Nino's heart wasn't in it anymore. _We're not superheroes,_ she had said. _There's nothing you can do,_ Adrien had said. Nino's left hand tightened around the box in his pocket.

They were both wrong.

(#)

Nino finally left Alya's house just after sunset, making some excuse about helping an old relative with some furniture. He traveled a few blocks away and ducked into an alleyway when he was sure no one was looking. He pulled the box from his pocket, but stopped himself when his fingers brushed the lid. Why did this feel like the point of no return? Master Fu had given him permission to give the Miraculous back if he wanted, so where did this sense of impending doom come from? Why did it feel like the weight of the world was about to fall on his shoulders? Nino shook his head. It was just the responsibility that came with being a superhero. That's all it was.

He flipped open the lid and an orb of green light rose from the box. Nino stood transfixed on the orb, which soon solidified into the strangest creature he'd had ever seen. A small chartreuse...fairy?...with a bulbous head, a tiny shell on its back, stubby flippers instead of limbs, and an antenna on top of its head. It opened its eyes, bright yellow with dots of green in the center, and smiled at Nino.

“It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Master Nino.” Nino had witnessed many oddities since Hawkmoth first reared his ugly head. Hell, he'd even been turned into a girl once, so he shouldn't have been surprised when a small floating turtle popped out of a box and called him 'master.' But he was. He attempted to babble out some form of greeting, but the small fairy ignored the inarticulate muttering. “I am Wayzz, kwami of the Turtle Bracelet. I look forward to working with you.”

“Uh, m-my name's Nino!” He straightened his back. “But you already knew that! Right,” he chuckled and fiddled with his hat, “yeah. Um, I...really don't know what I'm doing or why I agreed to all of this, but...”

“Ah, spontaneous, unfocused, you remind me of Master Fu when he was young.” Wayzz narrowed his eyes and brought a flipper to his chin. “Though I suppose it's just Fu now.”

“Wait, you're Master Fu's, uh, Kumi?”

“Kwami,” Wayzz corrected. “And yes, I _was_ , but in his advanced age, he has decided to retire the mantle of Yù Guī and pass the Turtle Miraculous to you.”

The weight dropped even heavier onto Nino's shoulders. Not only did he have a Miraculous, an opportunity to become a hero, but it was the Guardian's Miraculous. Why did Master Fu trust him with something like this, trust him to be his successor? And why _him_? Why not someone else? Brave Kim, gentle giant Ivan, intelligent Max...

“Why me?” The question of the hour. “What do I have that makes me a hero? He called me impulsive and disorganized, and you said pretty much the same thing, but then he said the turtle is stable and focused. Why make me a hero when it's clear I don't fit the bill?”

Wayzz chuckled. “If you only knew how many times I have heard that exact question.” The kwami floated up to better look into Nino's eyes. “Miraculous are not granted to those who match their traits, but rather to those who _need_ their traits. This is what allows you to grow and develop, not just as a hero, but as a person. So, Master Nino, what kind of hero will you become?”

Nino looked from Wayzz to the open box still in his hand. Inside sat a green stone oval carved in the likeness of a turtle. Arms, legs, and a head jutted from the sides of the intricately etched carapace. The thin leather strap attached to either end of the oval looked almost too large for his wrist. He lifted the bracelet from the box, surprised by the tingle in his fingers as he touched it, and started to slip it over his left wrist. He thought again, then slipped it over his right hand, thinking to camouflage it with the rest of his bracelets. Just as the jade stone settled on his skin, the leather band contracted, setting it firmly in place. Nino's eyes widened and he brought the bracelet to his face.

“Well, that was freaky,” he muttered. “What now?”

“Simply say 'Shell Up' to transform, and I will walk you through your powers.”

Nino blinked and clenched his fist. This was it. The plunge. He was about to become a superhero. He held up his wrist and squinted. “Shell...Sh-Shell...”

(#)

Nino eased open the door to his home, his head low and his hat sitting awkwardly on his head due to an unexpected passenger. He tried his best to keep quiet, considering he'd taken his time coming home and it was now almost nine o'clock. However, he wasn't quiet enough. Around the corner came Sophia Lahiffe, a bronze skinned woman with wavy brown hair down to the middle of her back, chocolate eyes, and multitudes of jewelry hanging from her ears and neck.

She planted her fists on her hips and shouted, “Imanino Lahiffe! Where in _aljahim_ have you been? No texts, no calls, no anything! Were you out with the Césaire girl again?”

“Mom...”

“Answer me, Nino.”

Nino shifted from foot to foot and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, yeah, I was over at her place studying.”

Sophia raised an eyebrow. “Just studying?”

Nino grimaced and groaned. “Mom, we’re too young to be...having...you know…”

She furrowed her brow, then her eyes widened when realization struck. “No, no! I know you are more responsible than to have sex this young…”

“Mom!”

“I’m more worried about you getting lassoed into her Ladyblug shenanigans.”

“It’s ‘Ladyblog’, and no. I’ve been trying to talk her _out_ of doing crazy, dangerous stuff. We were just studying, okay?”

Sophia looked him up and down, as though trying to find some hole in his story, then huffed and pushed back his hat to kiss him on the forehead. He slapped a hand on top of his head to hold the hat in place. “Hungry, _ghaliti_?”

“Uh, n-n-no,” he stammered, adjusting his hat. “I ate with Alya. Her mom makes the best chicken piccata ever. But uh,” his eyes drifted to his hat. “I could use a snack before bed. Do we have any carrots?”

A few minutes later, Nino wished his mother goodnight and staggered into his room with no further interrogation. The moment his door closed, he took his hat off and let Wayzz float down to his bed. “Sorry for being so rough, little buddy,” Nino apologized, his hand held out to offer some chopped carrots. “Couldn't let my mom see you.”

Wayzz shook his head and accepted a carrot. “No worries, Master. Kwamis are more durable than you think.” 

Nino opened the closet door beside his bed and changed into his pajamas while Wayzz continued to munch on his carrots on the bed. The kwami ran his eyes over the immaculately organized room, marveling at how Nino’s desk at the foot of the bed looked so out of place. Random papers, stacks of CDs, empty energy drink cans. The signs of an artist. Wayzz smiled. Nino was more like Fu than he knew. When Nino finally flopped on his bed and folded his hands behind his head, Wayzz floated up and settled on the pillow next to his head.

“Tired already, Master?”

Nino turned his head to face the kwami. “Why do you keep calling me ‘Master’?”

“Because that is what you are.” Wayzz tilted his head when Nino shifted uncomfortably on the sheets. “Do...you not wish me to?”

“Well...master, servant, it just doesn’t sit well with me.” He raised his right arm over his head and glanced at the bracelet.” Especially since I only just got this thing.” He let his arm drop and sighed. “I'm...sorry I couldn't transform earlier. It feels like everything’s moving too fast.”

“Again, Ma...Nino, no worries. You will come to accept your powers in time. Just sleep, get some rest. Tomorrow is another day.”

(#)

A twinkly jingle emerged from Alya's phone at 7 AM on the dot. The device's vibrations made the little ladybug charm dance on the girl's bedside table. Alya swatted the phone twice before she managed to grasp it and swipe a finger across the screen. The jingle died and she dragged herself out of bed, her face stretched into a yawn. She danced around piles of dirty clothes and found her way to the chair at her computer desk. A jiggle of her mouse awoke the machine and the Ladyblog homepage bloomed across the twin monitors. Alya refreshed the blog pages, and noted that her Glutoneer footage had received a respectable number of hits. She checked the forums, and noted nothing new besides another shipping war between the LadyNoirs and the VolpiNoirs that she needed to shut down.

A new image on the speculation boards caught her eye, and she clicked over to a picture of a yellow and red blur. Alya squinted at the picture. Was that...Queen Bee tackling Ladybug? Some of the commenters believed not all was right and peaceful between the heroes, but Alya brushed it off. While Queen Bee was a little...abrasive, she wasn’t a bad person, and it seemed as though she adored Ladybug. Maybe she could ask Ladybug the next time she agreed to an interview. The scent of sweet nirvana wafting beneath her door interrupted Alya’s thoughts, and she inhaled deeply. Mom was home.

Alya picked out her clothes for the day, black jeans and a violet t-shirt with a pink wifi symbol on it, and made her way out into the family kitchen. A seven-year-old brunette sat on a stool beside the kitchen island, shoveling cereal into her mouth. She had her hair pulled back into pigtails, surprisingly because of Marinette rather than Ladybug, as the young girl became enamored with the hairstyle after she had first met the designer. The girl smiled when Alya entered the room, her little chipmunk cheeks bulging, and turned back to her breakfast. Their mother wasn't in the room, but evidence of her presence sat in the full and steaming coffee pot beside the stove.

“Morning, Cici,” Alya said as she poured herself a cup of coffee and pulled a bottle of creamer from the refrigerator.

Cici swallowed. “Morning, Allie!” She cocked her head to the side when Alya brought the Ladybug mug ( _Ladymug,_ Alya thought. _I'm hilarious!_ ) to her lips. “What's that black stuff you and Momma drink every morning?”

Alya smiled and lowered her mug. “It's a magic elixir designed to turn zombies back into normal human beings,” she intoned, waggling her fingers for effect.

Cici's eyes became saucers. “You're a zombie?”

Alya shrugged. “We all are, through Mom. Well, technically, we're half-vampire. Ever wonder why she works all night and sleeps all day?”

The look of awe on her sister's face made Alya's morning, especially when their mother walked into the kitchen, still in her chef whites, and poured her own cup of coffee. “Alya, stop telling Cecilia I'm a vampire.” She threw on a Romanian accent and whispered, still loud enough for Cici to hear, “I don't vant her to get suspicious.” She threw her head back, cackled, and passed back out of the kitchen, likely to dress down into her pajamas.

Cici giggled and Alya poured more coffee into a small thermos, paused, then filled another. After talking to Marinette on Discord last night, Alya knew she would need a pick-me-up. More footsteps came into the kitchen and Alya turned to face pixie cut red hair and thick-rimmed glasses around brown eyes. The girl could almost be confused for a younger version of Alya, had their tastes in fashion aligned. While the eldest preferred jeans and button up shirts, her younger sister stuck to skirts with tights underneath and a myriad of t-shirts plastered with various band logos, a good number suggested by Nino as of late.

“Good morning, all,” the thirteen-year-old sang. She eyed Alya's coffee, crossed her arms, and sighed. “What a sad day when youthful exuberance and enthusiasm is replaced with caffeine...” She picked up the creamer and turned the bottle to sneer at the ingredients list. “And artificial flavors.”

Alya snatched the bottle away her sister. “It's these 'artificial flavors' that keep me sane during the day, Chess,” she hissed.

“I'm just saying,” Chess grinned as she retrieved a bottle of almond milk from the fridge. “Would it kill you to go organic?”

“It would kill Mom's wallet,” Alya scoffed. “You know, I give your health food kick another week before you're back to eating garbage like the rest of us mortals.”

“I thought we were vampires,” Cici pouted at Alya.

“We are, Cici. That's why _Fran_ is so skinny,” she teased with the nickname her sister hated. “She can't find any free range, non-GMO pig blood.”

Chess opened her mouth to protest, but their mother barged into the kitchen yet again, this time in white fleece pajama pants and a dark blue tank top, her hair pulled from its bun. “No more arguing. You all need to get,” she planted a kiss on Cici's cheek, “to,” a kiss for Chess, “school.” Alya got the last kiss of the morning and the trio of Césaire's marched of for their school bags and shoes.

“Momma,” Cici started. Her mother looked down with a smile. “If you're a vampire, then what was daddy?”

Marlena's smile faded and an awkward silence fell over the household. Alya shifted from foot to foot and her mother stammered in her search for an answer. The only one seemingly unaffected was Chess, who broke the silence.

“The invisible man, obviously.”

Marlena whirled towards her daughter. “ _Francesca!_ ”

She threw up her arms. “Hey! Don't get mad at _me_ just because her dad...”

“ _Our_ dad,” Alya asserted with a firm hand on her sister's shoulder. Chess looked to Alya, then to their mother, whose frustration was visible in her eyes. “We can talk about this later.”

After a few seconds, Chess relented. The three girls threw their bags over their shoulders and walked out into the cool morning. They stood outside long enough for Cici to hop on the bus to her school, the averted shouting match gone from her thoughts. Chess and Alya waved goodbye, smiles on their faces, however, the moment the bus rounded the corner, the middle sister scowled.

“Don't you think she's old enough to know she's not really our sister?”

“She _is_ our sister, Chess.”

Chess huffed. “We have different fathers!”

Alya jabbed a finger into Chess' face. “I don't care if she's one-hundred-percent adopted.” Alya leaned in. “ _She. Is. Our. Sister._ ”

The pair walked towards Francoise-Dupont in silence. A few blocks down, Alya sighed. “Look, I want to tell her the truth as much as you, but Mom said to keep it quiet until she's old enough to understand. I _hate_ lying to her, but making Cici feel like she's not part of the family? I hate that even more.” She met her younger sister's eyes. “She deserves to know the truth, just...not now.” Chess nodded, seeming to accept this answer.

“Pardon me,” came a soft voice from behind them. The girls turned to face a short, older man with a gray receding hairline, a mustache with pointed goatee, and a red Hawaiian shirt covered in white flowers. He hunched over his cane and asked, “I'm sorry to trouble you, but I seem to have left my wallet at home. Could you please spare some change for bus fare?”

Chess shrugged. “I got nothin'. Sorry.” She kept walking while Alya dug through her purse and pockets. She managed to scrape together something for the man and deposited the coins into his waiting hands.

“Thank you so much,” he smiled. “I think it's wonderful that you care so much for your family.” Alya's eyebrow quirked and the old man blushed. “Oh, forgive my eavesdropping.”

“It's no problem,” she chuckled. “I'm the eldest, so I have to look out for them all the time. Cici, the youngest, looks up to me, like I'm her hero.”

A wild glint flashed in his eyes. “And a fine hero I'm sure you make.”

Alya grinned and looked over her shoulder to see Chess almost disappeared into the crowd. “Sorry, gotta go. Gonna be late for school.”

Alya turned and ran after her sister, leaving the old man to stroke his beard and gaze after her. “A fine hero, indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr @krzed for more!


End file.
